


ghost lights

by Maharetchan



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Creepy Fluff, Family Secrets, First Meetings, First Time, Hannibal is a creepy teacher, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Minor Character Death, No child abuse or animal abuse at all, Past Relationship(s), Slow Build, Will is a single dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:17:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 125,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maharetchan/pseuds/Maharetchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt I got on tumblr: 4. teacher/single parent au</p><p>Will meets his daughter's school psychiatrist; he's an incongruity.</p><p>We're back!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://papenrichard.tumblr.com/); leave a comment if you enjoyed this work.

When the call from the school arrives, Will is in class; his heart hammers in his chest with worry, and he struggles even to put his coat on, because his mind is screaming, and all he wants is to get there as soon as he can, to make sure his little girl is alright.

He feels like he can't breathe, and everything is blurred and moves too fast around him; he has to stop for a moment, to cling to what's real and solid not to panic.

Alana, who appears swiftly and light as a feather to take over his lesson and help him collect his things, walks him to his car, struggling to keep up behind him who's practically running; her smile means to be encouraging and peaceful, to radiate good vibes.

Will can't appreciate it at all, but is grateful anyway.

“Hug Aleksandra for me, okay? It's gonna be fine. Children get into little fights all the time; my brothers were always in trouble when they were kids. Just relax.”

“Yeah, I'll try to do that.”

But he can't relax, he can't stay calm: they told him his daughter was not hurt, but nothing can chase away all the terrible images that swirl inside his head; nothing washes off of him the terrible, sticky uneasiness that chokes him like a miasma.

Like a poisonous wind that knocks the air out of his lungs.

Aleksandra rushes towards him as soon as she sees him, jumping into his arms and hiding against his chest; she starts crying softly, murmuring into the texture of his sweater. Her little hands cling to him, and Will kisses her forehead and her hair, rocking her gently.

“I'm sorry, daddy. I'm sorry, please don't be angry.”

“Sssh, don't cry, Tiny. I'm here, daddy's here. I'm not angry; it'll be okay.”

She stays like that for a long time, unable to calm down; she's probably feeling all his barely contained worry, and that, paired with how scared and traumatized she must be, is overwhelming her.

Will talks to her softly, her small weight safely held in his arms; she's still so little. All he wants to do is make her feel better, see her smile again. He kisses her temple, rubs her back, hums to her: and slowly, she starts to relax.

He catches one of the teachers staring at them; he wants to scream at her, rage and raise hell: because his little girl is hurt and no one should be allowed to do that to her.

But he doesn't; he knows it won't do any good to her.

Aleksandra almost starts crying again when Will has to leave to go talk to her teacher in another room; but, after a few shaky breaths and more soothing words, she hugs him one last time, before letting him go.

“I will be right back, okay Tiny? And then we'll go home and play with the dogs all day. Just you and me. Or maybe we could call aunt Beverly or aunt Alana, if you want.”

“Can we make hot chocolate and read together?”

Will smiles.

“Of course, baby. Everything you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Will sighs as he sits in front of his daughter's teacher, trying not to look worried or, even worse, bored. He doesn't want to give any of them to satisfaction to see him distressed: he's cold and professional, his tone without any warmth.

But the room is suffocating around him, like a prison cell; and he thinks about Aleksandra waiting for him outside, clinging to her shark stuffed toy, tears of humiliation in her big, blue eyes: he just wants to tell this man to go fuck himself and leave his baby girl alone.

That she has done nothing wrong; but bites the words back, and shakes his hand politely.

"Mr. graham, I am Hannibal Lecter. Pleased to meet you."

Will makes a forced and unhappy sound in the back of his throat.

"I wish I could say "likewise", but I’m not very pleased to be here at the moment, giving the circumstances."

The man doesn’t look like a teacher at all, not an elementary school one at least: his clothes are so rich, clearly expensive, and he presents himself with a good balance between unquestioned authority and pure desire to collaborate. He's good at radiating calm and trust. But never makes people forget who's in charge.

He reminds to will more of a psychiatrist than of a teacher.

And it fuels how nervous he feels; because everything about this man is cold: carefully constructed, but lifeless.

He's playing a part. Will isn't sure which one it is.

"Yes, I understand you must be troubled by the events; it was a very unfortunate fact.” 

“I'd rather be with my daughter; comforting her is a lot more important to me than talking to you.”

“Absolutely understandable, Mr. Graham. I'll try to be brief: but, before we begin, for the records I’d like to say that I believe your daughter to be an incredibly gifted student."

"I’m sure there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in that sentence."

The man smiles, seraphic; but his smile has nothing of genuine. It's like a mask, something he wears to look human, to hide the holes behind it.

Will’s hands ache with the need to peel it off with his words.

"But, sadly, she’s incredibly shy and withdrawn. And this, paired with her… family situation, exposes her to be the target of bullying and harassment…"

Will has tries to stay calm, to be reasonable: but his little girl is hurting, and he doesn’t give a fuck about manners anymore. Hearing all this, knowing what happened, it makes him see red.

And professor Lecter looks so detached, so removed from it all… it infuriates him.

"My daughter is not at fault for being shy or reserved! You are at fault for not being able to protect her from all this. I’m not going to punish her for fighting back against that little bully, and if you try, well.. I guess I’ll just have to take her and my money elsewhere!"

And that’s when Hannibal Lecter really, truly smiles; it makes Will shiver in his seat. The force of all that honesty pins him where he’s sitting.

It's sudden and unexpected; like finding an old, precious painting after scrubbing off layers and layers of dirt.

"Oh, I agree with you. Aleksandra did nothing wrong when she kicked that little boy into the dirt. She had every right to do so; even the kindest souls can react in unpredictable and unsettling ways when pushed too far."

His smile is knives and blades, like a lion's… or a shark's. It’s dangerous, and it makes his presence there even more incongruous.

Who is this man? Why is he there?

What is hiding under his sugarcoated courtesy?

These are the questions Will should be asking himself. He should be running out, taking Aleksandra and then flying away from there as far as he can.

But, instead, like a spell has been suddenly put on him by that grin, he relaxes.

And attempts a smile too.

"Then how are we going to solve this?"

Hannibal Lecter's eyes shine almost kindly.

"I am sure we’ll be able to figure something out."

Will takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second.

“And how do you propose we do that, professor Lecter?”

The man keeps smiling, unaware of, or ignoring entirely, his discomfort.

“I could talk to the boy's parents, have them and him understand the situation. The boy could apologize to your daughter for what he did, vow never to do it again; and she, in return, could apologize for her behavior today.”

“I don't like the idea of Aleksandra having to apologize for anything. It wasn't her fault.”

Hannibal Lecter crosses his hands together on his stomach and stares at him without saying anything: the imagine of the man as a psychiatrist strengthens in his mind; as does the idea that he has something to hide.

Will doesn't know what it is; but it's big. It's something that moves in dark corner; that slithers by like a snake, leaving behind a trail of secrets and darkness.

“Are you really a teacher? You don't look like one...”

“I am not, in fact. I am a therapist. I only volunteer here a few times a week, as a personal favor to the principal.”

Will shakes his head, feeling trapped there.

“My daughter doesn't need a psychiatrist poking inside her head. She's fine.”

“No one said otherwise. I have not, at least. You seem to be very wary of therapy, uncomfortable with the idea of it.”

“Therapy is an acquired taste I have yet to acquire.”

Lecter's smile exposes his teeth, just barely; it's enough to make him shiver again.

“You seem comfortable enough with me now.”

He inhales deeply and gets up, walking around the room; the man doesn't stop him.

Will stares at the drawings on the walls, at the colorful furniture: the presence of children is everywhere. There's life in there; and then there's Doctor Lecter, in his expensive dark blue suit: he looks alien there. 

But Will tolerates it unexpectedly well: he can deal with weird.

“I understand you work for the FBI.”

“I'm a teacher, and a special investigator. But I thought we were here to discuss my daughter; not me or my job.”

“We are. Seeing so much death and atrocity as you do in your line of work, it must be very hard to rise a daughter alone. Be the parent she needs. It must put a lot of strain on you; but Aleksandra is very balanced and happy.”

“None of that is your business. I'm not your patient. So don't psychoanalyze me; you won't like me when I'm psychoanalyzed.”

Lecter doesn't say anything; he gets up as well and joins him in front of the window; Will can almost feel the heat that radiates from his body. It's suffocating and comforting at the same time.

A part of him, without warning, wants to open up in front of him, tell him everything: how fucking hard it is to hug Tiny after seeing a crime scene; playing with her with death and gore still in his nostrils, in his eyes, burning his mind away. How many times he woke up terrified.

And the only thing that could calm him, was staring at his sleeping angel.

He loves Aleksandra so much, he'd do anything for her, to keep her safe and happy; but being a good father for her is not easy.

“If that boy apologizes; she will too.”

The doctor nods; then he puts a hand on his shoulder: Will wants to jerk away, but then... then he doesn't.

The pressure is soothing; hard, but not too much. He closes his eyes and relaxes.

“Very well then, all solved.”

Hannibal Lecter is not a common man; everything about him screams of danger and secrets.

And Will can taste them all on his lips, like honey mixed with blood.

They stare at each other for a long moment, before going back to Aleksandra: his eyes are maroon, but in that light... they look almost red.

His whole body is passed through by a long shiver, like a bolt of lightning. He can't stop staring back at him; eye contact is hard for him, usually, and yet... 

And yet now Will can't seem to be able to escape it: the man is like a spiderweb and he's the fly trapped in it. Only he's not trying to break free at all.

Lecter's expression softens, and he's the one who looks away first, leaving Will gaping now that the pressure is finally gone.

“This is my card; you can give me a call anything you need. I shall be glad to be of assistance.”

He wants to throw it away, like he does every time psychiatrists give him their numbers; instead slips it in his pocket and nods.

Will doesn't look back while he exists the room; but he knows Lecter's eyes are firmly fixated on him. And the thought doesn't bother him.


	2. Chapter 2

“I must say, I was surprised to receive your call, Mr. Graham.”

 

Will doesn't turn around; he listens and feels the presence of the man behind him: he's solid and heavy, but not overwhelming. He doesn't look at Lecter yet; instead he scans his office with his eyes.

 

It's rich, almost flaunting, almost too much to be believable, running on a very fine line between excessive and abundant: like a poor man's idea of wealth. Yet, it's still incredibly tasteful. And he's appreciative of the decor despite himself.

 

“I didn't plan to call, actually. Like I told you, I'm not fond of the company of psychiatrists. But my daughter has been praising you almost daily. So I had to come and see what the fuss was all about.”

 

Now he turns around: and Hannibal Lecter smiles something that could be almost taken as a sincere smile. But Will is too observant, too used to read lies everywhere and catches the wrinkles and dark corners of it way too fast. It's the mask again: the one Will had felt compelled to peel back during their first meeting. 

 

They circle each other for a while, with Will moving around the room appraising every object in it, and Lecter following him at a respectful distance.

 

At some point, he goes to sit down on one of the two twin chairs in the middle of it, a clear invitation for him to do the same. But he just smiles and stay where he is. Waiting.

 

“And in what capacity are you here tonight? As a future patient or as a concerned parent?”

 

It's Will's turn to smile now; then he looks away for a moment, sighing heavily.

 

“As neither. Let's say I am... an acquaintance. Nothing more than that.”

 

Lecter nods, accepting his suggestion very gracefully.

 

"Am I allowed to call you 'Will' then? If you're an acquaintance?"

 

Will shrugs and finally goes to take his seat: the chair is so soft and comfortable he feels almost drowning in it, in the warm and pleasant atmosphere Dr. Lecter can create all around him.

 

It's so easy. He can close his eyes and inhale the subtle scent of lavender and lemon coming from the wax warmer; he can focus on the richness of the room, on the calming aura that Hannibal Lecter can exude so easily and so readily, like he can command all his feelings and emotions with the will of his mind.

 

Will knows it's an act, a very well tailored person suit, an intricate and ornate facade meant to distract and blind him to all the rest.

 

But for once, he allows himself to relax. Because there's so much more he wants to see and know and it'll take time.

 

"Yes. I suppose you can. Hannibal."

 

"What did you come here to discuss tonight?"

 

Will bites his lips and looks away again: Hannibal is smiling, clearly pleased by the turn of the events, by hearing the sound of his name in his mouth.

 

Maybe he's so used to have the upper hand that he always acts like he does. It's a coping mechanism Will should learn.

 

"I just wanted to see more of you, considering how close to Aleksandra you seem to be. I'm not... used to her relaying on people who are not me."

 

Hannibal is probably not a very good man, but that doesn't mean he can't act like one. He may have dark secrets he very carefully hides inside himself, and Will is aware of it more than he'd like to be.

 

But nevertheless, he can't hide the gratitude in his voice, because Tiny comes home crying less often than she used to, because she seems to be calmer and more grounded. If he has to thank Hannibal Lecter for that, he'll get on his knees.

 

Even though there's a hint of jealousy towards him he can't ignore.

 

"Very wise of you. I am glad to be of assistance to you and Aleksandra, if I can."

 

"You listen to her, not many people bother to. That's a lot for her, to know she can talk to someone who's not me if she needs. I'm grateful for that."

 

His smile this time is genuine. And Will wonders. He imagines things before he can stop himself. A kind man and Tiny's hand in his. It's a powerful and dangerous image and he bites his lips to put it in the back of his mind.

 

Hannibal Lecter may not be a good man, but he's a kind one in his own way.

 

"It must be hard for her to seek out other forms of comfort when she's so close to you. It's very common in children raised by single parents."

 

"Please, don't ruin the mood by starting to psychoanalyze me and my daughter."

 

They both smile, because they understand the game they're playing, the tension that runs between them. And it's fun; they both want more of it. They want to see how far they can take it before the rope running between them snaps.

 

"My apologies."

 

Will, in the back of his mind, is aware of how many defences he's lowering, of how much he's exposing to the eyes of this stranger. He should stop, he's still sure he can.

 

But he's not sure he wants to. There's something about Hannibal that scares him, that frightens him so deeply he's unable to tell if he wants to run or attack.

 

He's not sure what it is or if he wants to ever find out. But there's also so much more, and that Will wants to uncover and drink up fully.

 

"I didn't think I would find you interesting, when I first met you."

 

"Have you changed your mind?"

 

Hannibal looks hungry; his eyes are shining red and Will feels like drowning into them. He grins.

 

"Maybe I will."

 

"How do you propose I may help you in this?"

 

Will relaxes back against the chair and takes a very long and deep breath.

 

He thinks about his daughter's smile when she came home from school that day, about how much more peaceful her dreams are. He thinks about Hannibal too.

 

He thinks that he has only seen him twice and he's already hooked. And wonders how bad it is.

 

"Come over for dinner one night and maybe we'll find out."


	3. Chapter 3

Aleksandra Graham is somehow a little small for her age: but has a healthy color in her cheeks and smart, willful eyes that pierce through people with absolute honesty, dripping an overwhelming kindness that ensure everybody will fall in love with her, sooner or later.

 

Hannibal Lecter observes her as she looks out of the window of his office for a moment, before going back to the drawing of the tree on the opposite side of the garden that she's working on.

 

A gift for her daddy, she called it.

 

Her daddy, who is late to pick her up from school, because when the FBI calls, he has to run and do his duty. Aleksandra understands; she's a big girl now. Hannibal was very ready to propose to keep her with him until the arrival of the man; by now he's used to her company and has come to look forward to it. And she likes to stay in his office anyway; in the comfortable silence filled only by very softly played classical music.

 

Will Graham appears suddenly in his thoughts as he was when he last saw him in his office a few days back: those atrocious baggy clothes, the abhorrent smell of his aftershave that made him almost gag, that haunted his nostrils for hours after he was gone; and the flicker of interest, understanding and curiosity he saw in his eyes, the almost feral look in them that only grew as they spoke.

 

He tries so hard to look civilized and harmless, to conceal the reality inside of him: he chained the beast with blood on his teeth, and slipped into the shoes of the good, loving father, of the teacher, of the serious FBI agent.

 

Of all of those masks, only the father one is genuine: Aleksandra is loved and happy, Will is devoted to her in ways that run so deep, that Hannibal is reminded of old, dark secrets inside his own heart that he does not wish to disturb. Not now.

 

He rises from his chair very slowly, approaching the young girl and then kneeling by her side; she looks at him and smiles, taking her drawing and showing it to him, wanting to have his approval even though she barely knows him.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

“It is very pretty. I am sure your father will find it stunning.”

 

The child shrugs at that, but flushes a little. Just like her father does. They are so alike, and at the same time so different.

 

He sees Will in his mind once again: sitting in front of him, grinning, relaxed and comfortable despite the immediate rush of distrust and almost of repulsion he must have felt towards him.

 

Because the beast inside Will Graham recognized the one that inhabits him too right away, without a doubt, and they circled each other in the darkness of their hearts. Hannibal wonders what will happen when they'll finally meet face to face.

 

“My dad likes everything I make. He's not a very good judge sometimes.”

 

Hannibal smiles at her, watching her going back to her colors: she's meticulous and careful, her little fingers doing their best to follow her wishes and ideas. She's just as interesting as her father to him: she's a bridge to him, of course, a fast way to gain his confidence, but also so remarkable in her own rights.

 

And she's quick to learn: she listened to Hannibal's advices, learned from them, made them a part of her world. Now the other children bother her far less than they used to; she fights back when they do: her words are hard as swords and in her hands they cut deep.

 

He's proud of her.

 

“Your father came to see me a few days ago. Did he tell you about it?”

 

She nods absently, biding her time by playing with the pencils she's holding, while he gets a chair and sits next to her; she avoids looking at him directly, but he is not concerned with that, and knows he has her attention.

 

Both father and daughter share a distaste for eye contact, a habit hard to break, but that makes it only more rewarding when he manages to do it.

 

Especially if it's completely focused on him and only him. He's learning to love to have those big, intense blue eyes staring back at him: their intelligence reflecting back in his own.

 

"Yes."

 

"What did he tell you?"

 

She thinks about it for a moment, maybe unsure if she can betray her father's confidence and share it with him. They are not used to have other people in their lives.

 

Hannibal is more than determined to worm his way inside it and gain their trust in every way he can. The problem is, he's still not sure why he desires it so badly.

 

He tries not to think too hard on that, but to what lengths he's going to win over both of them, it's unsettling for a man as controlled as he is.

 

"That you might come over to our house for dinner one of these days. To get to know us better. Daddy says we both should want to do something nice for you, because you were nice to me."

 

Such an incredible grace in handling her, Will must have, a complete attention to ensure her comfort and respect her longing for new presences in her life, while at the same time protecting her.

 

He can see Will say those words if he closes his eyes, can imagine the expression on his face and how his voice must have sound.

 

"And would you like it if I really came over? Or would it be awkward for you? You're father wants only the best for you. And so do I."

 

Aleksandra looks at him right in the eyes now, her gaze steady and firm.

 

He wonders what she can see in him, how deep under his skin both of them are managing to crawl.

 

They are both too smart for their own good. It makes Hannibal almost salivate with desire to find out so much more about them, to uncover all their secrets and devour their lives and histories.

 

Will looked at him the same way that evening in his office: like he was trying to skin him, to remove layers and layers of armors and forts to dig into the soft and defenseless parts of him, to find out what he's hiding.

 

Hannibal can't help asking himself what he would do if he knew.

 

If they both knew.

 

"Do you like my daddy?"

 

The question is odd, almost out of place right there between them. He's tempted to deflect it, to carve himself free from it with his words.

 

But he has no use for lies: not now with her at least. She's honest and simple and he needs to win her over with the same courtesy.

 

"I find him interesting. As I find interesting you."

 

"My dad doesn't really like people usually, you know? Except aunt Beverly and aunt Alana: they are his best friends. We don't get many visitors. But it's okay because we have the dogs and each other and we don't need other people."

 

Aleksandra keeps looking at him: she looks so much like her father it's almost impossible to find traits that could possibly belong to her other and still mysterious parent. Another inquiry he's determined to solve.

 

He muses over her words for a moment: the vision of the two of them alone in their little house all by themselves it's endearing, it's seductive.

 

He wants to be there as well: he wants to have Will all for himself. The thought is so unusual for him, so frightening that he shivers.

 

But a smile rises to his lips.

 

"Do you think there is a possibility I will be able to get your dad to like me? Perhaps with your help?"

 

Aleksandra giggles at that, at the secret they are sharing.

 

"I think so."

 

Hannibal's smile in return is all teeth, a grin that doesn't unsettle the little girl at all. She keeps smiling instead, and then she pulls him closer to whisper something in his ear.

 

"I hope he'll like you. Because I like you."

 

He thanks her, brushes her hair behind her ear and pets her head, with all the kindness he's able to master. He's surprised by how sincere it is. She leans into the touch.

 

Will Graham's blue eyes stare back at him from her face. He stares a moment longer.

 

Then he leaves her to her drawing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really pleased you all are enjoying this story.  
> Many more creepy shenanigans to come!


	4. Chapter 4

He sees Will Graham a few more times before being officially invited over to his house for dinner.

 

And each one of them is an opportunity he relishes, a scene he replays in his mind over and over to analyze every aspect of it: until he knows perfectly well how to proceed with him, and manages to understand him a little more than he did before.

 

The man appears unannounced at his office, just like any normal patient with an appointment would, and never excuse himself for the intrusion.

 

As a rule, it would bother him; but Hannibal may have let slip that he has an empty slot on Thursdays after his last visit; a time he usually spent keeping his records in order.

 

Now Will occupies it.

 

He has a glass of wine, just one, after all he has to drive home safely after; he settles into the room and fills it with his presence, while Hannibal watches and wishes he could devour it to know what it tastes like.

 

They are still studying each other, like two predators trying to decide if they should fight or ally. It's a seduction, in its on way: they're both used to their privacy and their loneliness, and Will has his daughter to protect and think about.

 

Hannibal understands: and, after all, it only makes the chase much more interesting and rewarding.

 

Will walks through his office like he's trying to uncover what he's hiding from the furniture: he runs fingers on the spines of the books, on the shelves, smiling to himself and glancing back at him with appreciation when they come back without a speck of dust.

 

He asks questions about the décor, inquires about the origin of each and every item: Hannibal obliges him, follows him around the room and Will smiles at his obvious attempt to keep him contained and under control; once or twice, he dares to come close enough to smell him.

 

Hannibal points his eyes right on the nape of his neck, on the curls pooling there, on the curve of his shoulders: he has always been a physical man, one who enjoys contact, who appreciates beauty.

 

But the desire he feels towards Will Graham is entirely new: he wants to sink his teeth right there, to maul his delicate skin, tear his flesh apart and devour him. And sometimes Will looks back at him like he knows and feels the same.

 

There is always a seductive grin on his lips that speaks volumes of his desires: and he can't help wondering how far Will Graham is willing to take this.

 

Would he stop if he knew the truth?

 

Would he turn him in or shoot him? Run away and disappear with his little girl, too afraid of what Hannibal could do to her?

 

Or would he simply accept the nature of things and continue their game, curious to see where it will lead despite the danger?

 

Hannibal isn't sure; and this uncertainty fuels him forward instead of holding him back.

 

It's all still new to him: this desire for connection; and he's still trying to understand why he wants it so much.

 

And he isn't sure what he would do if Will found out the truth about him too soon.

 

Will is a threat: this closeness between them could end very badly for him, it could destroy everything he has been building over the years; and yet he keeps putting that thought away and trying to get closer and closer to Will and Aleksandra.

 

He has time, he tells himself. There is plenty of time.

 

During his private and internal musings, he notices how much tension inhabits Will's body: he comes to him to find silence, a quiet place where he can let go of the worries of his day, before going home to his child.

 

Hannibal wonders if Will is aware of this.

 

“Your job must be incredibly stressful.”

 

“I can handle it.”

 

So defensive, he thinks, so eager to hide his weaknesses, while unconsciously revealing more of them.

 

“Of course you can. I am sure you are highly trained and capable. But you look very tense. I have noticed it in your posture.”

 

Will smiles and goes to sit down in front of him, finally. He stares directly at him so openly. Whatever fear of eye contact he may have had before it's gone now.

 

“I see a lot of awful things; I think being tense is the least one can expect from a job like mine.”

 

“Do you come here to find a shelter from the storm? To let go of all the tainted parts of the job you hold on to during the day, before going home to your daughter?”

 

There's a very long pause: Will is suddenly compelled to look away, to close his eyes and inhale in and out several times before he can reply.

 

Hannibal drinks in his discomfort and can't help thinking how incredibly beautiful he looks when he's distressed. He's sure he'd look even more ravishing while in pain.

 

He wonders if he'll ever get to see it.

 

“Talking to you is... relaxing. And you're enough removed from my world, and from the people I know, that I don't have to worry about you telling someone else what we discuss. And you don't try to psychoanalyze me.”

 

"Unlike other doctors you've met?"

 

"Let's say that."

 

Hannibal considers him for a long moment. He's more vulnerable and exposed than usual now: there are things he wants to share with him, he can tell from the way he tries to get Hannibal to ask the right questions.

 

It's endearing in the most subtle way.

 

“You must have had some truly awful experiences with therapy to feel this way.”

 

Will attempts a smile, but then becomes serious again. Like he's consider if he can trust Hannibal with a secret.

 

He feels under scrutiny like never in his life: it's thrilling, it's intoxicating, to be looked at like that. He wants more of it.

 

Will inhales deeply.

“A few years ago, I was... sick. Encephalitis: and a very stressful case aggravated my condition. I was in a really bad place for a while, both mentally and physically. So, after I was cured, I decided to admit myself to a psychiatric facility for a while. It was all done very quietly, no one really new. Aleksandra stayed with a friend of mine during that time; she was still very little, thankfully. But...”

 

“But you find the idea of having to submit yourself to that kind of medical attention ever again unbearable. Even if it's with someone you know and trust.”

 

Will nods; then he really smile and relaxes in his seat. Because Hannibal understood it and he's proud of him. He likes being understood without being judged.

 

Hannibal licks his lips; thinks about the absolute beauty Will Graham must have been with his brain on fire. He's saddened he'll never get to witness it.

 

But this confession opens new doors between them: now they're sharing deep and painful secrets. Their connection is becoming deeper and deeper.

 

“Why telling me this now? We only barely know each other."

 

Will shrugs.

 

"You probably would've found out about it eventually anyway."

 

"How?"

 

"I don't know. But I'm sure you're the kind of man who can find everything out if he really wants to. You're a hunter, and a very skilled one."

 

"What about you? Are you a hunter as well?"

 

Will shakes his head.

 

"I prefer to fish. Hunting is not for me."

 

Hannibal smiles exposing his teeth, and watches Will sighs deeply at that.

 

"Are you not afraid this may be inappropriate, considering my position at Aleksandra's school?”

 

“I have the feeling you are a big fan of the unorthodox, Hannibal. We are just talking after all; I am a friend, remember? Not a patient, not a concerned parent. Just a friend.”

 

He's more clever than Hannibal had thought: he knows how to set the table so he can make it look like he has the advantage even though the majority of the cards remain hidden, even though he still jealously guards all his secrets.

 

He knows how to manipulate him; and it's a beautiful thing to witness.

 

“Am I being considered as a possible doctor? I may not have a problem with the unorthodox, that is true, but there are lines I would be uncomfortable crossing. Even with you.”

 

He makes his lie sound obvious enough to get a laugh out of Will. He is not only stunning in pain and discomfort, but also in amusement.

 

He is not sure which one he is more keen on seeing.

 

“I'll tell you how I consider you after our dinner.”

 

Will smiles and Hannibal wishes he could bites that smile off his lips.

 

\-----

Stalking a new victim takes times, and generally involves wasting precious hours that could be more productively spent. But it also gives Hannibal a taste of the rush of adrenaline that comes with chasing his still oblivious prey, and with the anticipation of the future kill.

 

And sometimes, it can also provide unexpected opportunities.

 

He's following the man he has targeted at a certain distance, making sure he's not noticed, when he spots Will and Aleksandra on the other side of the road: she's holding his hand, smiling and talking fast about something that obviously excites her, while they walk towards the movie theater.

 

They look so peaceful in their little, private world; they're separated from the crowd around them for his eyes, as if they do not belong there, but are cloaked in a different kind of light. He's so tempted to shatter their heaven with his presence, and wishes, at the same time, he could bottle their serene aura and keep them locked away forever, only avaiblw to him and no one else.

 

Hannibal acts before he really has the chance to think about his decision: it's dangerous, to be seen like this, so exposed and far away from any environment he can control, stripped of so many of his armors.

 

But, also, he will never get a better opportunity to slip inside the dynamic between the two than by seeing it in play first hand.

 

The choice seems to be making itself. He crosses the road and joins them.

 

“Hello, Will.”

 

Will stares at him for a long moment: he must look so different to him without his suits on, in anonymous and inconspicuous clothes. In the end, however, he seems happy to see him.

 

“Well, this is a surprise. Hello to you. Say hi, Tiny.”

 

“Hello, Doctor Lecter.”

 

The little girl smiles up to him, half hiding behind her dad's leg. He smiles genuinely and gently pats her head; she giggles in response, and Will stares at both of them like he's trying to understand the nature of their relationship. He doesn't look threatened or worried about it; Hannibal allows himself to consider it a victory.

 

“What are you doing around here?”

 

“I had some errands to run. Then I saw the two of you and decided to come and say hello. I hope I have not intruded.”

 

“No, don't worry. You didn't. We were just going to the movies. Have a night out, you know.”

 

“Absolutely. Distractions are always needed. And children need to go out and enjoy themselves, once in a while. It is very healthy.”

 

Hannibal considers the best way to manipulate Will into inviting him; but Aleksandra does it for him.

 

“Do you want to come with us? It'll be fun, we'll have popcorn.”

 

He had half expected Will to look mildly embarrassed by the sudden proposal, to see him try to wriggle out of it; because Will values the time he can spend alone with his daughter more than anything, and strangers like him are rarely welcomed. And Hannibal is a stranger: one that has earned Aleksandra's favors way too quickly and in ways that Will doesn't exactly understand yet. And that's unsettling for such a perspective and clever man like he is.

 

Hannibal understands all this perfectly. He fuels that image himself: he wants to keep him interested ad curious as much as he can, after all.

 

But none of this happens; Will smiles at him instead, vaguely amused by the situation; then he caresses his daughter's hand and kisses the top of her head.

 

"I'm sure Hannibal has better things to do than come to the movies with the two of us."

 

"Actually, I wouldn't mind coming along, if you don't mind."

 

Will doesn't look surprised, but he does look pleased. He wonders why that may be, what he's thinking about. He'd give everything to be able to slip inside his head and dissect his thoughts one by one.

 

He asks himself what kind of opportunity Will sees in their friendship, what he hopes to gain from it.

 

And in between, there's Aleksandra's trust, her genuine happiness when she saw him: they all want something from each other, but Hannibal is not sure they know what they are looking for.

The man shrugs and nods at him in the end, after a long deliberation and another hushed and private exchange with Aleksandra, who keeps glancing at him from time to time, like she's afraid he'd leave.

 

"Well, if you are willing, I have nothing against the idea. I hope you like cartoons."

 

He doesn't, but he pays little attention to what happens on the screen anyway.

 

Hannibal has eyes only for Will and Aleksandra: the little girl spends most of the movie smiling and whispering to her father, her head on his chest and his fingers gently stroking her hair.

 

They look beautiful together, and Hannibal feels like a voyeur, witnessing something that does not belong to him.

 

He can tell how close they are, how unbreakable their bond is: he never had any desire to have a child, but looking at them, he understands why someone would.

 

Aleksandra glances at him from time to time, offering him some of her popcorn, that he politely declines. He's surprised by how strong and honest his affection for her is becoming.

 

He watches her and treasures every single one of her smiles, memorizes the way they look on her face.

 

Happiness becomes both of them, it makes their eyes shine even in the darkness of the movie theater.

 

They are the rarest prize he could hope to find, and Hannibal desires to be with them, to belong between them, to own their lives and entangle them to his own.

 

This twisted, faint longing for a family of some sorts he's experiencing doesn't feel right inside of him: it clashes with all his life has been so far, with the ghosts of a past he's still struggling to come to terms with.

 

He imagines another girl in Aleksandra's place, one with golden hair and brown eyes, calling out his name and holding her hand. But it's a quick thought that passes fast, because he can't bear to open that door inside him yet, not when his certainties are crumbling fast and he's trying to make sense of the new world he's building inside himself.

 

Will Graham watches him as well, his lips curved into a smile that looks almost dangerous.

 

And Hannibal can't help wondering how much truth there is in that threat.

 

\-----

 

"We're going to get something to eat, do you want to come or are you sick of us already?"

 

They're all walking together away from the theater, and Hannibal stops to glance at his watch. He could leave: go home, start on a solitary dinner, reflect on the events of the day, on how much he has learned about the little family he's trying to worm his way inside of.

 

It would be wise to do so.

 

"I don't usually eat out; I am very careful about what I put into my body, so I end up preparing most meals myself."

 

"Is that a no or there's going to be a 'but' at the end of that sentence?"

 

Hannibal smiles.

 

"Lead the way; I will survive the food, surely."

 

Will rolls his eyes, and Hannibal is astounded by how quickly they have fallen into a familiar and comfortable banter. Aleksandra stares at the two of them like they are a space oddity she's trying very, very hard to understand.

 

Hannibal should be horrified by this continuous breach of his boundaries: instead he only desires more of it.

 

"You're a weird man. Come on, I think a night out with us will do you some good."

 

He has a few moments alone with the little girl, while Will gets their food. She's staring outside the window of the diner, watching the car speeding on the streets.

 

She's quiet and solemn, her little fingers tapping on the glass.

 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Aleksandra?”

 

“Yes. It was fun, I really liked the movie.”

 

Hannibal can't help wondering how much of her other parent there is in her: she looks so strikingly like Will, it's so easy to forget that another person exists somewhere in the world, and the relation she has to them; he hasn't asked Will about it yet, it's something that requires more trust between them, but he's curious. And a part of him, it's also jealous of that still unknown presence that hovers between both Will and Aleksandra.

 

"Do you think your father has started to like me?"

 

Aleksandra nods, but doesn't look at him.

 

"I think he does. Or he wouldn't have asked you to come with us. He likes it the best when it's just me and him, you know."

 

Hannibal runs his fingers through her hair, and is stunned when she suddenly turns around and jumps into his arms to hug him.

 

She's way more tactile than her father, and gentle touches comfort her. He hugs her back because he doesn't know what else to do. But inhales her clean scent, allowing it to flow into his nostrils and sear into his brain.

 

"I'm really, really happy you came with us. You are my friend and I want daddy to be your friend too."

 

She breaks the hug first, but Hannibal knows he owes her an answer of some sort, because she doesn't stop staring at him.

 

"I hope he'll become my friend as well."

 

And yes, he wants that. And so much more. He craves for all Will can offer and fully intends to take it.

 

Aleksandra dominates the dinner with her excited and lively chatting, keeping both of them completely focused on her: she tells Hannibal about her passion for sharks and other sea creatures, promises to show him all her books and drawings when he'll come to visit. He indulges her readily, offers to bring her some gift related to her passion, with her dad's approval. It's cozy and comfortable, this taste of normalcy and domesticity he's allowing himself to have.

 

Will observes them and having his eyes always on him, it's both erotic and unnerving for Hannibal.

 

They continously exchange looks, flirting from afar without touching or even talking directly to each other most of the times. They play with the child and do their best not to let her notice anything.

 

But there's a current running between them, and it gets stronger and stronger.

 

“She hugged me while you were getting the food. I hope that does not unsettles or worries you.”

 

Hannibal whispers those words very closely to Will's ear; he doesn't look away from where Aleksandra is busy playing, but a smile opens on his lips.

 

“It doesn't. She likes to hug people who are kind to her. She's so shy, but gaining her trust isn't very hard. She's a good kid.”

 

“She has you to thank for that; you have raised her well.”

 

Will grins.

 

“Do you really believe that?”

 

"I do. You are a good father and Aleksandra adores you. Everybody could see it."

 

Will sighs, but is still smiling; he gets a little closer to Hannibal, enough for their shoulders to brush against one another. It's their first contact since shaking hands on their first meeting in his office so many weeks ago, and Hannibal feels it directly on his skin even through the clothes they are both wearing.

 

Suddenly, he wants to kiss him right there where they are: it's such a strong, fiery need, something he never experienced before in his life with such strength, that he's almost scared of that intensity.

 

Will looks at him, and Hannibal wonders if he can read his desire on his face, in his eyes. The man licks his lips unconsciously, and the feeling in him grows, until it's all that occupies his mind.

 

He wants to flay Will Graham alive and wear his skin as a cloak, to maul and devour him until nothing will remain. Hannibal wants, no, needs to feel his blood on his hands and lips, to kiss him, fuck him, kill him.

 

And he imagines Will doing the same to him, so they'll destroy each other equally.

 

It's maddening, to think all that while putting up a civilized and unfazed facade: they are wild animals trapped and caged, and Hannibal wonders how long it'll be before they manage to regain their freedom.

 

He considers kissing him just to see his reaction; to have the pure satisfaction of the act, because he needs it; and for once, the long game he has been playing with Will, slips out of his mind, lies forgotten in the dust, and all that remains is this all consuming emptiness he's desperate to fill.

 

But he knows that it's too much of a risk; no matter what he can see in Will's eyes, what he wants to believe he sees and it's something that mirrors what is inside of him almost perfectly, there's still the possibility he'll nullify all his hard work. And Hannibal cannot have that.

Will is the one who looks away first, in the end.

 

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

 

The moment passes, the tide retreats; Hannibal inhales deeply to regain his composure: but he remembers the feeling, and knows the moment to act on it will come one day.

 

\-----

 

The day has been long, and Aleksandra falls asleep in Will's arms while they walk back towards his car. She looks so incredibly peaceful, blessed by the rest of the innocents: once again, a hint of nostalgia hits him, but he brushes it off.

 

"I would have never guessed you could be so easy going and amiable."

 

"I can give the impression of being stiff and serious to those who do not know me well, yes. But i hope today has dispersed that image of me from your mind."

 

Will nods, and kisses his daughter's temple so very gently and lovingly.

 

"We had fun with you today, I'm glad you came along."

 

"We could do it some other time, perhaps."

 

A faint laugh is all he gets in reply; but it still makes him hope.

 

"We'll see, I guess, I'm still not sure what to think of you, what you are getting from all this: sure, at school you're required to pay attention to my daughter and her well being. But I wonder why you're trying so hard to impress us, to look so... normal."

 

Hannibal considers what to say for a long moment; he has to be so careful with Will, and the strongest part of him doesn't want to be: it's hard to maintain a balance when you yearn to destroy.

 

"I could ask the same to you. You allow me to be here, around your daughter. We both find each other interesting, I suppose."

 

It's the most harmless truth that can pass between them: they are an opportunity for each other, but it's hard to see where this will take them just yet; they both seem to be willing to find out.

 

"I guess you're right."

 

When they reach the car, Will handles him a sleeping Aleksandra for a moment, while he busies himself opening it: she's a warm, delicate weight in his arms. Her hands cling to him and he notices how Will stares at the two of them like this, like he's trying to imprint in his memory how they look. It's another demonstration of trust that goes to his head, and makes him hope for much more.

 

The desire to kiss him comes back, but it's quieter this time, softer: it's a small flame, and Hannibal basks into its light and warmth.

 

"Are you busy next Saturday?"

 

He smiles a victorious smile inside himself.

 

"No, I have no plans."

 

"Then come to dinner."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooooo much for all the nice comments, I'm so glad you all love Tiny as much as I do.

When Will finishes checking on the lasagna in the oven and returns in the living room, he finds Aleksandra sitting on the floor: her eyes are attentive, focused on the drawing of Winston she's attempting to do, despite the dog's lack of cooperation.

 

He watches her in silence for a moment: she looks so small surrounded by their pack: the little frown on her face warms his heart, and he walks towards her to kiss her head, then goes to sit on the couch behind her.

 

Tiny doesn't stop drawing, but she turns around to smile at him: Hannibal will be there soon, and he still needs to change her into a nicer dress and put on something decent himself. But he relaxes for a moment, listening to his little girl telling Winston not to move so she can draw him.

 

“Hey Tiny. Come up here.”

 

The little girl crawls on his lap and hugs him tightly, kissing his cheek and resting on his chest. She's always so affectionate, much more than he was as a child. He pets her hair and smiles.

 

“Can we talk for a moment?”

 

“Okay.”

 

She has that solemn expression on her face that she picked up from him, and hugs her shark stuffed animal in her arms like she's pretending to be nursing it. But her attention is all on him. Will runs his fingers through her soft curls, tickles her a little to make her giggle and relax.

 

“Are you happy Hannibal is coming over for dinner? You can say no, if you're not. It'll be just between you and me, okay?”

 

She nods brightly, her cheeks warming up and an excited smile appearing on her lips.

 

“Yes, daddy: I'm happy he's coming tonight; I like him. He's very nice, I told you. He's my friend. And I promised to show him all my sharks books; and he'll get to know the dogs!”

 

“Yeah. And he seems to like you too a lot. But you can tell me if it makes you uncomfortable to have him around. You don't have to feel like you must be nice to him just because he was nice to you; you know that right?”

 

Tiny nods and goes back to lie on his chest, crushing her animal between them: she's still so young, but to him, time seems to be passing way too quickly already.

 

He remembers her weight in his arms when she was just a baby, the delicate scent of her skin, her little hand wrapped around his finger: he never had to share her attention with anyone before, because there never was anyone in their lives who could become that important.

 

But now, now there's Hannibal Lecter, trying to worm his way into their family: he gains Tiny's trust, cutting himself a place in her heart, making her smile and become closer and closer to her. And to him: because Will is as seduced by him as his daughter is.

 

Only, Will isn't as naïve as she is: he can see much more, he feels the contradictions of the man on his skin and tastes them on his tongue. There's something dark and secret inside him: a monster hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

 

What doesn't make him run away and attempt to keep Aleksandra away from him, is this... feeling that he would never hurt her. That he genuinely likes being around her, winning her affection; he wants to become a part of their family.

 

And Will is considering more and more to let him.

 

“Daddy?”

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

She looks up to him with her bright blue eyes, and puts her little hands on his shoulders, holding on to him. Her face is so serious it makes him laugh softly: she's such s peculiar child, and he sees so much of himself in her.

 

“Do you like Hannibal?”

 

Will takes a deep breath and considers her: the world still manages to be simple for her, but she has a sharpness in her that makes her as perceptive as he is, with the same empathy that highlights everything around them.

 

There is a reason why they are both so drawn to Hannibal, why they so instinctively allow him in their lives: he just hasn't figured out what it is yet.

 

“I do. That's why I invited him over, so we can get to know him better. You think that was a good idea?”

 

Tiny nods.

 

“I think he's happy to stay with us too. He's very lonely, you know? And people shouldn't be lonely.”

 

Will kisses her forehead: she picked up Hannibal's loneliness just like he did, internalized it into wanting to make him part of their lives. Just like she would with a new stray dog; he casually wonders what the man would make of the comparison.

 

“But that won't change anything between us, okay? You're always going to be more important than everything and everyone to me.”

 

She blushes and hides in his arms, while he ruffles her hair.

 

“I know, daddy. I love you.”

 

He hopes he's making the right choice in trusting a man with so many secrets like Hannibal, and sighs when he looks at his watch and sees how late it is already.

 

Will gets up with her in his arms so he can take her upstairs to change. She clings to him, humming little songs between herself, her head resting on her shoulder.

 

\-----

 

Hannibal is, of course, perfectly on time: he's dressed simply, just like during their improvised outing, with a tupperware in one hand, and a bag that looks full of books in the other; he smiles at them without exposing his teeth, looking incredibly nonthreatening.

 

Will has Tiny on his hip: the little girl waves welcoming at him, her face brightened by a big smile.

 

“I hope this place was easy to find, come on in. Don't worry about the dogs: they won't bite you or bother you.”

 

The animals surround Hannibal to smell him: he's amiable enough to pet them, without complaining at all about the hair they must be leaving on his clothes: Tiny giggles in his arms and signals him to let her down so she can go over to greet him.

 

“Yes, your indications were very clear; don't worry. I am happy to be here. Thank you again for inviting me.”

 

“I know you're careful about what you eat, but try not to be picky tonight: I'm not a great cook.”

 

Aleksandra looks up at both of them, entertained by the conversation, but also distracted by trying to guess what Hannibal brought with him.

 

“I am sure it'll be fine. However, I brought dessert: I hope you two like brownies.”

 

If he hadn't manage to win Tiny over already, this would be the definitive moment: she looks amazed and tries to reach for the tupperware, but Will snatches it from her hands and ignores her protests.

 

“We'll see how they are after dinner! Now, be a good girl and stay with Hannibal for a moment while I go put this in the kitchen.”

 

Will takes this moment alone to relax, breathing deeply, and reordering his ideas and feelings: he's there in his house, the place where so very few people outside his family get invited to; the only place he truly feels safe.

 

No matter how good Hannibal's masks are, he can see beyond them: and he knows he's giving him more and more power in their lives: he vaguely regrets it, this evening, all the confidence he gave him over the weeks.

 

Or, he does until he sees him and Tiny in the living room: he's showing her the books he got her, with the little girl smiling hard while sitting on his lap. The dogs stare at the two of them like they're trying to make sense of his presence there, but Aleksandra is completely enamored.

 

And, Will notices, so is Hannibal: he looks at his daughter like she's a precious, important little thing, and he's completely focused on her. And that is real: he's not performing for an audience like he does so often with them, hiding behind the different layers of personhood he owns and can change in a matter of seconds.

 

Hannibal Lecter is not a good man: he knows that, he knew that from the moment he saw him for the first time. He pretends to be one, and is very good at it, his acting is amazing: but Will sees, and knows that a man with so many dark sides and corners inside of him, one that hides a cruel and sinister streak, cannot be completely good.

 

But then, he sees him like this: smiling at his daughter, indulging her chatter, playing along with her little games, and he knows that that's real too. Hannibal is capable of both things: of being terrifying and immensely kind.

 

And he wants to crack the enigma he represents, just as much as he wants to see more of this genuine goodness.

 

“What are you two doing?”

 

“Daddy! Look at these books! Aren't they just so pretty?”

 

Tiny climbs on his lap and shows him everything, under Hannibal's vigilant gaze. Will looks up to him for a moment and smiles, while indulging his daughter in her excitement.

 

"Wow, they look amazing! Did you say 'thank you'?"

 

"Yes, I did. Thank you, Hannibal, they are really pretty books."

 

The man looks very pleased: he bows his head a little at Tiny, and the little girl giggles.

 

“I am glad you liked them.”

 

Then he turns his attention on Will, studying his reactions: he sighs, but doesn't look away from him.

 

“You didn't have to buy her anything, or bring dessert.”

 

“I know, but it was my pleasure; I did not feel any obligation. I just hope I wasn't being inappropriate. I can return them, if you are uncomfortable with me giving gifts to your daughter.”

 

Will looks at how happy Aleksandra looks and shakes his head.

 

“It's fine; you promised her, after all. And you must always keep your promises, we care very much about that here. But, yeah, I need to ask: what about your position at the school? Isn't it against the rules for a teacher to fraternize so much with the family of a student?”

 

Hannibal smiles.

 

“I am not a teacher, Will. My role has no weight at the school. I don't believe there is any internal rule about it.”

 

Will shakes his head, but he's still smiling. The look that runs between them makes his skin prickle with desire to touch him.

 

Even with Tiny there, they are both aware of the sexual tension running between them and it's electrifying: it has been years since the last time Will felt like this; he needs and wants, almost aches for what he could get out of Hannibal if only he gave in to his seduction.

 

Because the man would give him everything he asked for, and he knows that, he can tell from the look in his eyes.

 

He focuses on Aleksandra again, never forgets that she's there with them, but he doesn't ignore what is happening between them either. Will just stores that feeling away inside of him, locks it to be used later.

 

\-----

 

Tiny monopolizes Hannibal both before and during their dinner, charming him completely with her chatting and her enthusiasm; but Will doesn't mind at all, and joins in with the two of them, giving his whole attention to her as well; and to analyzes how the man behaves with his daughter.

 

Aleksandra shows him her room, all her sharks stuffed animals and figures: he's positively amazed by the mural painted on her wall, by all the books she has.

 

He holds her hand as he's dragged all around the house, with Will on their tail, smiling at how good they look together. She introduces the dogs to him one by one, allows him to help her finishing coloring her drawing.

 

“I'd very much like to draw both of you; I am an amateur painter in my free time.”

 

“Is there anything you can't do?”

 

Hannibal looks at him like he's trying to decide what the best answer to his question is: Will feels the burning need to keep poking him, to see him expose himself in front of him, unable to hide from his scrutiny. He wonders what he could uncover if they were alone and could talk freely: he knows the opportunity will come one day. And it makes him smile to himself.

 

Will decides to cut through the chase and finally serve dinner.

 

“Okay Sharky, let's go to eat.”

 

Tiny squeals happily when he picks her up and tickles her a little, settling against his shoulder while he carries her into the kitchen; with Hannibal right behind them.

 

In the end, dinner is a success, and for a few hours, Will can even placate all his doubts: Hannibal is gracious and polite, eats everything in his plate with a smile on his lips. They stare at each other through the table, even while he helps Tiny with her dinner, and they both focus on her.

 

Will relaxes thanks to the only glass of wine he allows himself, and watching Hannibal so out of his depth is fascinating: in his office, he's the king, he owns every part of it, the very air that surrounds him; but there... he knows he's new at this, that he has to constantly readjust himself to suit the situation.

 

A little girl like Tiny is unpredictable: but Hannibal, instead of feeling awkward or threatened by that challenge, seems to be completely at ease. It's interesting. He smiles to himself while he observes them.

 

And, thanks to Aleksandra's curiosity, Will gets to know little things about him that help him form an opinion on the man.

 

“Where are you from? Your accent is funny.”

 

Hannibal cleans his lips and drinks some of his water before replying, while Tiny looks up to him, waiting.

 

“I was born in a country called Lithuania, but I have been living here for many years.”

 

Tiny repeats that name until she's sure she knows how to pronounce it; then turns to him to whisper something in his ear.

 

“Daddy, where is Lithuania?”

 

“It's in Europe. You'll study it one day.”

 

She nods very solemnly, internalizing that new knowledge, before turning back her attention on Hannibal.

 

“Is it a nice place? Did you like it there?”

 

“Yes, it's a very beautiful country. I have not been there very recently, but I remember it very fondly.”

 

Will is always surprised when he sees them interact like that: Hannibal tries very hard not to talk down on her, but to make her feel part of their conversation. Part of it, it's an act to earn her trust, because he knows she's the fastest way he has to get to him: but he's more genuine when she's involved.

 

He's determined to charm her, to become important to her: and she seems to be important to him as well. It's a weird relationship.

 

“How come you left it to settle here?”

 

Hannibal stares at the two of them for a long moment, before speaking again. Like he knows he's threading in difficult waters: he's very aware of Will's scrutiny, and, maybe, he's afraid to reveal too much too soon.

 

“I was orphaned very early in my life; after many years in an orphanage, I was adopted by my uncle at sixteen, and I lived with him in Paris for a while. But then I decided to come to America to have a fresh start, and begin a new life.”

 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.”

 

The man smiles down at Aleksandra, who looks very saddened by his words and has stretched her little hand on his to comfort him.

 

“It's all fine. It's a thing of the past; talking about it doesn't bother me at all.”

 

But Will can't help wondering if that's why he is so lonely: if the darkness inside of him isn't just made of danger and isolation, but also of that deep and profound loneliness both he and Tiny perceived in him.

 

He's alone in this world just like they are: and his desire to fit in the familiar picture they have built, has deep and old roots inside of him. He understands the feeling, and even though he's still wary and suspicious, the trust he's starting to put in Hannibal becomes more solid and strong inside of him.

 

Aleksandra distracts both of them, in the end: her voice is soothing and her crystalline laugh chases those thoughts away again.

 

But Hannibal stares at Will intently a moment more, like he's trying to read what he's thinks from his face, to slip inside of him, behind his barriers. He doesn't say anything; but he can feel the pressure of those eyes on his skin for hours afterwards.

 

\-----

 

After dinner, Tiny settles Hannibal on the couch and joins him there so they can go through her new books, sated and satisfied after eating: the dessert was excellent, and she's hyped by the chocolate. Will quickly does the dishes, and then comes back to the living room silently, so he can catch them alone and see how they interact when he's not there.

 

“Are the other children at school still bothering you?”

 

Aleksandra shakes her head.

 

“Not very much anymore. But, even if they did, I'm a shark! And sharks are not afraid of anything, right?”

 

Hannibal smiles at her, caressing the back of her head: he gives her a quick kiss on the forehead, before settling her against his chest and opening one of the books.

 

“That is right: you must not be afraid of them. You are much stronger and special than they will ever be.”

 

She blushes and giggles.

 

“You are funny and say funny things.”

 

But still gives him a kiss on the cheek and pushes a book in his hands so he can read to her: Will never saw her like this, so relaxed with someone else, so ready to trust them.

 

She never had another parent other than him, thankfully, and until now the thought never bothered him: but it still slips inside his mind, the idea of having a family. It's all still very abstract, because he doesn't know Hannibal, yet, and would never blindly invite him permanently in their lives.

 

But one day... he can't help wondering what they could look like.

 

A part of him needs to believe this can be possible for them: loneliness eats you alive from the inside, it leaves you with a gaping hole that longs to be filled. He wants to believe Tiny doesn't feel anything like that yet, that she's still young enough to be blessed with a happy innocence without pain: but she has his eyes, his sensibility. He sighs and then goes to join them.

 

The three of them spend the rest of the evening quietly, with the dogs around them and Hannibal's clear voice filling the room.

 

Tiny tries to stay awake as long as she can: but the day has been long and full of excitements, and after a couple of hours, she's dozing off in his lap, her head against Hannibal's arm.

 

“She looks very peaceful.”

 

Will caresses her hair and smiles up to him.

 

“When she was just born, I could spend hours just watching her sleep. Nothing else mattered to me in those moments.”

 

“You are very lucky, Will. She is a beautiful girl.”

 

He nods, then stands up so he can pick her up and take her to bed.

 

“Hey, Sharky, it's very, very late; it's time for you to go to sleep.”

 

But she tries to protest, disentangling herself from him and hugging Hannibal instead, like she doesn't want to let him go: she wants to keep him there with them. Her voice is groggy and she hides her face against his neck, while he hugs her and rubs her back with big, steady hands.

 

“No, I'm not tired!”

 

“Yes, you are. You must listen to you father.”

 

“But I don't want you to leave.”

 

Hannibal smiles to her.

 

“We will see each other again very soon, alright? Now go, you need your rest.”

 

She nods to him and hugs him very tightly. Will caresses her hair gently.

 

“Okay, sleep well too. I love you.”

 

And after kissing his cheek one last time, she allows Will to take her away.

 

He tries not to think too much about her words, because she's still too young to clearly understand them, but they haunt him while he struggles to keep her awake long enough to wash her teeth and put her in her pajamas. He's jealous of her, of the intensity of the feelings she's starting to develop towards this strange, mysterious man he struggles to understand.

 

He looks upon her just like he has done so many times in the past, and he knows he'll never be the only person in her life, that he shouldn't be that. And if Hannibal Lecter is what she needs, he'll do everything in his power to make sure she's safe.

 

The man is an enigma; and he's determined to crack it, to understand who he really is, before allowing him further in their lives.

 

Hannibal is sitting right there where he left him, when he goes back in the living room; Will sits down heavily on the couch. And only then he realizes how close they are and that this is the first time they have been alone together in such an intimate setting.

 

He shivers and smiles. His fingers ache to touch him: but it's too soon, for now he can only watch and long for.

 

“Thank you for coming here tonight, and for being so patient.”

 

“It was my pleasure; Aleksandra is becoming... surprisingly important for me. I am glad she is comfortable with me and with my presence in her life.”

 

Will nods.

 

“She's enamored with you; just as much as you are with her. Why are you so interested in us? I can't help asking myself this. You are so drawn to us... I wonder if I should worry.”

 

Hannibal grins up to him, but he's still reassuring and kind. Will sighs anyway.

 

“You two are very peculiar, a mystery for me. And I am attracted to mysteries.”

 

“Tiny says you're lonely, and that's why you want to be around us so much.”

 

“There is that too, I won't deny it; but I am not trying to use you or your daughter to fill a void inside of me or in my life. I want to get to know both of you, just as I want you to get to know me. What will come of it... who can tell.”

 

Will knows the man probably wants to kiss him, because he wants it too, so badly he has to look away to stop himself from doing something he'll probably end up regretting: the room is warm around them and the fireplace's light shines on Hannibal's face, making him look so human and vulnerable.

 

And the fact that he doesn't know how much of that is really him and not one of his masks is what stops him.

 

Hannibal takes a deep breath.

 

“May I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure, go ahead.”

 

“Is Aleksandra's other parent in the picture somehow? I have gathered you are not in a relationship with anyone, but I would never presume to take somebody's place or disrupt Aleksandra's interactions with her parents.”

 

Will shivers despite himself, and ugly memories of his past flood his mind: he has to close his eyes for a moment to calm down and regain control over himself.

 

“No, he isn't. I'm Tiny's only parent. You don't need to worry about him.”

 

"You seem pretty certain."

 

Will knows he's dying to ask more, that curiosity is probably eating him alive: but why spoil their game so soon, when the chase can continue for a while more.

 

He can't help being grateful for that, because he's not ready at all to touch that subject: especially not with him. And not now when he doesn't feel safe enough to expose so much of himself to him. He's glad Hannibal understands.

 

There are still wounds inside of him that bleed just as if they were still fresh, and they still hurt. He needs time to discover the truth about Hannibal, to face his own demons.

 

Then, maybe, he'll tell him everything.

 

"I am. Trust me on this."

 

Hannibal nods, and Will relaxes again.

 

The light in his eyes is so deep and fascinating he feels like drowning into it: it'd be so easy to allow Hannibal to suffocate him in his embrace, to give in to the tension between them. Will closes his eyes when the man caresses his cheek, briefly, just a faint contact that runs through his body like a bolt of lighting: the need to kiss him becomes stronger.

 

But in the end, he's the one who backs away first.

 

"I won't ask you anything. If you ever wish to tell me, I'll be glad to listen."

 

Will laughs out loud.

 

"Look at the two of us: so desperate for companionship and human contact, but then still we try so hard to conceal our secrets."

 

"Perhaps one day we'll uncover all of them. All in good time."

 

He nods and lets out a displeased sound, when Hannibal gets up, clearly ready to leave. Like Tiny, he wants to keep him there, stop him from leaving.

 

"I have a long drive ahead. It's probably better if I go."

 

Will nods, and accompanies him to the door in silence, trying not to reveal anything more than he already did.

 

"I'd like to return the favor and invite the two of you to dinner at my house next week. How does that sound?"

 

They look at each other for a moment, Hannibal wrapped in his expensive coat and ready to leave, while Will studies him. He nods in the end.

 

"I think it sounds really good."

 

And then he's gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little new chapter to keep myself going, while I struggle with "gourmand"; at least I have Tiny. 
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough for the marvelous comments. I hope this story will keep being liked because Aleksandra is so important. 
> 
> I'm not sure what the next chapter will be about; I'm torn between jumping to the dinner directly or having a more relaxed chapter possibility with Beverly or Alana. I accept suggestions. 
> 
> I exist on tumblr at papenrichard.tumblr.com so please come talk to me about Tiny there!!

During the years, after moving to Virginia and starting to work for the FBI, Will has learned to appreciate every quiet day he gets to spend at home with Aleksandra: he can watch her grow, going about with her little and simple life, and those moments mean so much to him, because he can focus on her completely and forget the stress of his work and its nightmares.

 

Tiny is drawing on the coffee table, settled on her pouf while the dogs sniff her and try to get her attention: but she refuses to be distracted, and the serious expression on he face makes him smile. He caresses her hair and drinks his coffee in silence for a while.

 

In passing, he thinks about Hannibal: the man has been out of town for a few days, and they both missed him; especially Tiny, who came home from school with a sad and moping frown that he had to work really hard to chase away. But now that he's back, they have an invitation to go to his house for dinner next Saturday.

 

Will sighs, and thinks he probably shouldn't be looking forward to that as much as he does: because he wishes he could say his reservations on the man are gone, but they're still there. Tiny's enthusiasm and affection for Hannibal are dangerous, and he should try to hold them back instead of encouraging her attachment to him.

 

But the truth is, he's becoming attached too: he enjoys spending time with Hannibal, talking to him, visiting his office and watching him with Aleksandra. It's becoming such an important part of his life, and it never happened to him: not like this, not so fast and towards someone he still fails to completely understand.

 

Will sighs, rubbing his eyes as he approaches Aleksandra again and dedicates his attention to her.

 

“What are you drawing, Sharky?”

 

The little girl smiles and looks up to him, then gets up to go sit on his lap, so she can show him her work.

 

“Look, daddy, it's a blue whale! They're the biggest whales in the ocean. I found them in one of Hannibal's books.”

 

It doesn't look much like the whale in the illustrations, but Will still kisses the top of her head and tells her it's beautiful, and the little grin he gets in return warms his heart.

 

“And what are these three little figures here?”

 

“That's me, you and Hannibal swimming with the whale!”

 

Will says nothing for a moment, but he does feel the weight of her words: he realizes how lonely Tiny must have felt, that their ushered and reserved life hasn't always been the best thing for her. She needed friends, not just children her age, but also other adults she could trust and go and talk to.

 

“I'm sure he'll love it when you'll show it to him. Wouldn't you be afraid to swim with a whale? They're so much bigger than a tiny baby like you.”

 

Aleksandra stares at her drawing for a while, her little hands caressing Will's and clinging to him.

 

“I don't know. A little, maybe. But you would be there! And Hannibal too! That would make it okay!”

 

He smiles at her, caressing her soft curls and watching her face light up.

 

“You really like Hannibal, don't you Sharky?”

 

The little girl flushes a little, then she nods and relaxes in his arms. Will holds her close to his heart, rocking her in his arms like he used to do when she was a little baby: he misses it a little, to be the only person in her life. But he keeps those memories separated from her current and new needs.

 

Sometimes, he still doubts his ability to be a good father for her, to give her the best amount of support and attentions she needs to grow up healthy and happy: he never had anyone capable of teaching him how to do it, and his own childhood is a bleak memory he tries to forget.

 

He's so afraid to fail her, to hurt her: but then Aleksandra looks up to him with her blue, bright eyes, smiles and kisses him, and Will's fears get pushed back in darkest the corner of his mind.

 

“We'll get you a nice and pretty new dress to go visit him, do you like the idea?”

 

She seems to like it very much, and clings more to him in response.

 

“Can we get something nice for you too?”

 

Will laughs at that.

 

“Yeah, I'm sure we'll need to; daddy doesn't have many nice shirts!”

 

The idea creeps inside him while he's reading for her, with Aleksandra lying on his chest, watching the illustrations of the book and touching them from time to time with her little fingers, pointing to her favorite bits and asking him to read them again. Will casually starts wondering what Hannibal is doing, how he's passing this sunny and pleasant late Sunday morning.

 

He can't help asking himself what a man like him even does during his free time: and the curiosity grows inside him.

 

“Would you like to call Hannibal and see what he's up to right now? We could ask him if he's being lazy like us.”

 

The response is, of course, enthusiast, and Will puts his phone on speaker so Aleksandra can listen to the conversation as well.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, Hannibal! It's me and daddy!”

 

“Well, this is one call I was not expecting to receive today: hello Aleksandra, hello Will.”

 

He can hear the man's smile even through the phone; it resonates in his voice, and he feels suddenly so much calmer than before. He ignores what kind of gift Hannibal has, to manage to be at the same time threatening and comforting, but Will falls for it every single time.

 

A weird kind of fear slips inside of him every time they talk or meet, only to be squashed by a smile or a word, or simply by the tone of his voice.

 

“We were asking ourselves what were you doing today. Tiny and I are reading your books and hanging around the house, lazy and surrounded by dogs.”

 

“Right before your call, I was catching up on some work while my lunch is finishing cooking. But since it is a beautiful day, despite the cold, I had a long walk this morning. You two should not feel guilty about your laziness: resting and enjoying an idle day is a perfectly noble activity.”

 

Will caresses Tiny's hair, while she tells Hannibal about all she has learned about whales from her books, and he thinks about the reassuring and kind mask Hannibal Lecter wears.

 

The image of a very well tailored person suit comes back to him once again: something that fits him so well that most of the times, he almost doesn't notice the stitching and the holes it in. But when he does, he catches glimpses of a completely different man: of someone darker and remorseless, who could kill without a hint of guilt. He knows men like him: he hunts them down at work every day.

 

And yet, instead of dissecting Hannibal to find out how far that cruelty has brought him, what he has already done to feed his dark urges, he talks to him on the phone on a Sunday morning with his daughter.

 

Because Aleksandra looks so happy, so enthusiast, and she's already so familiar with him; he wants to protect that feeling of happiness for as long as he can.

 

“You could bring that lunch you were talking about over here and we could eat it all together. You told us you're a great cook, but how do we know you're not just lying? Your brownies were nice enough, but we're still not convinced.”

 

“Please, Hannibal, please! Come over!”

 

The man doesn't reply for a long moment, and Will can hear him sigh: Hannibal calculates everything in his life so very careful, but he has noticed how easy it is for him and Tiny to catch him unprepared, to take down his forts and force him to reevaluate every situation.

 

It's interesting: they draw him to them, and Hannibal gives in to that feeling, because he can't help it, but, at the same time, he's also afraid of it , of exposing too much of himself. Will smiles at that idea: it makes Hannibal more human to his eyes, to realize he's just as confused by this as he is.

 

Aleksandra, in all this, seems to be the only one who knows clearly what she wants: she likes Hannibal, and wanting him around for her is easy and immediate; he envies her innocence.

 

“May I speak to your father in private for a moment, Aleksandra?”

 

She nods and goes to play with the dogs after kissing Will on the cheek and sending one to Hannibal too.

 

“Are you sure you want me to come over?”

 

Will goes to sit on the couch again, and his eyes never leave his daughter: he wonders what would happen if he said no, I don't want you here, never come near us again or I'll kill you; if the monster inside Hannibal would come out then.

 

But also knows he'll never do it.

 

“Why wouldn't I want that? I asked you to come, didn't I?”

 

“Sometimes I have the impression you might be afraid things between us are moving too quickly, which is understandable. You have a daughter to look out for. I do not want to intrude or become a threatening presence to your relationship with Aleksandra.”

 

You already are, Will thinks, but the words remain inside of him.

 

“Are you saying this on purpose so I won't think of you as a threat or because you're sincerely concerned about it?”

 

Hannibal laughs softly.

 

“Perhaps both.”

 

Will sighs.

 

“What are you making for lunch anyway? Give me a sneak peek.”

 

“I made boeuf bourguignon, but it should be left simmering for a few more hours to be perfect. It would be impractical for me to wait that long and then drive to your house: the meal would be ruined in the meantime. And I very much hate to waste good meat.”

 

“Is that an excuse? Are you trying to wriggle away from my invitation without being rude?”

 

Hannibal is silent again for a while; even though he hasn't seen his house yet, Will closes his eyes and tries to imagine it, and him inside of it.

 

It would be just like his office: a mixture of richness and abundance that borders on pure excess, and yet never going too far. But maybe with a warmer note, with something more domestic and familiar to it: it's his private space, something he protects from the world; a place that hides his secrets.

 

And Will can't help smiling to himself at the thought of Hannibal being willing to let he and Aleksandra inside it.

 

His daughter joins him again on the couch while he's still waiting for an answer, and then rests her head on his lap, curling next to him with a little smile on her face.

 

“I could prepare something simpler and quicker, and bring it over.”

 

He sounds hopeful, but at the same time, like he's not sure if he wants Will to take back his invitation or agree with his suggestion. The monster is cornered and confused about what he really wants: Will grins again. They are so alike in ways that still elude him; they're wrapped in loneliness and, at the same time, desperate to break away from it.

 

“That sounds great.”

 

\-----

 

Will has to struggle to hold Aleksandra back to finish putting on her coat, scarf and gloves when Hannibal arrives: her first instinct is to run out of the house to welcome him, and she frowns at him when he stops her.

 

“You'll catch a cold! Just one more sec and I'll be done.”

 

“Hurry up, daddy, please!”

 

He smiles at her little, whiny voice: she's usually so good and quiet, it's easy to forget she's just a child, with all her impatience and whims. And, Will thinks, she should be allowed them more.

 

“All right, Sharky, you're all set. You can go now.”

 

Tiny accepts the little kiss he places on her forehead, before storming out and going to greet Hannibal: he picks her up when she jumps into his arms, hugging her back and smiling that honest and genuine smile he has reserved only to her so far.

 

Will stops on the porch, observing them for a while, and as usual he's taken aback by the bond he can see forming there right in front of his eyes: Hannibal is always so warm and friendly with her, careful to handle her with the right amount of gentleness.

 

And Aleksandra responds to those attentions with the brightest of her smiles.

 

They look so incredibly beautiful together: and it's a picture he holds inside his heart, that reminds him of that undisclosed desire for a family that resurfaces every time he sees his daughter so happy with Hannibal. He feels stupid for longing for something that might never happen.

 

When he finally joins them, he tries to smile and pretend nothing is going on.

 

“I'm glad you made it.”

 

He's honest when he says that; and Hannibal must notice it, because he relaxes and gives him the best version of his reassuring smile. But it doesn't manage to hide the satisfaction and pride he reads on his face.

 

“And I am glad to be here. I apologize for taking so long.”

 

Will shrugs.

 

“It's fine, don't worry about it.”

 

Aleksandra smiles at both of them, safely settled in Hannibal's arms, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms around his neck; Will can't help noticing how relaxed she looks, and how the man accepts her intrusions of his personal space without even noticing it. She's worming her way into his life just as much as he is, and, possibly, even more.

 

“I'm very, very happy you're here too, Hannibal. I made a drawing for you!”

 

The man returns his attention to her, and his eyes sparkle when the light hits them: they remind him a predator, slowly shifting his focus from his prey to his cub.

 

“I am sure it's beautiful.”

 

She flushes again, her little cheeks bright and full of color.

 

“Do you want to go inside and leave the food in the kitchen? We always walk the dogs before lunch, you're welcomed to join us.”

 

Hannibal hands him Aleksandra and nods; Will leaves her sitting on the porch surrounded by their pack for a moment, and follows the man inside.

 

“What have you brought?”

 

“I made omelettes with cheese and ham, a few sandwiches and a chocolate mousse for dessert. I hope it's not too much.”

 

Will smiles, shaking his head while he helps Hannibal emptying his bag and settling the food in the oven for warming and in the fridge. He's amazed by how hard he tries to win them over, to seduce them in every way he can think of.

 

And he wonders how long it'll take before his attempts become more physical with him.

 

“I can't believe you could make so much in so little time. I'm sure it'll be all great, thank you for taking the time; you know you didn't have to.”

 

“Of course I know: you always make it abundantly clear that I am not required to do any of this. But I want to. It was entirely my pleasure.”

 

Will knows that's not the whole story, because Hannibal is not simply an altruistic man, interested in small favors that will have no pay off for him: this is simply the best way he knows to win people over. He gives them attention, showers them with it: apparently insignificant gestures that will, in time, benefit him.

 

It's clever, Will easily recognizes it: and it works with them, because he and Tiny are not used to any of that, and it feels good to be handled with so much care. He smiles and nods absently.

 

Hannibal stares at him for a long time after that: Will is very aware of their situation, of the quiet house around them; Aleksandra is outside, and they're alone there, standing close enough to touch.

 

For a moment, the man looks at him like he wants to make a move, corner him against the counter and kiss him: and Will vaguely thinks that he would probably let him; the light in his eyes makes him shiver.

 

Hannibal Lecter looks at him like he's a fine meal, and he's not sure if he wants to devour him or savor every part of him slowly.

 

But nothing happens, because Hannibal simply puts his coat back on and joins Tiny outside.

 

Will is almost grateful for that: because he's not sure they would've been able to stop if they had started touching.

 

The two of them walk through the fields following Aleksandra and the dogs, watching them as they run and play despite the cold. Tiny's happiness is contagious, and they're both smiling at that sight, the awkwardness of their kitchen encounter forgotten for now.

 

“I hope we didn't mess up your plans for the day with our invitation.”

 

Hannibal shakes his head as he watches Will throwing a stick to Buster.

 

“I welcomed it, in fact. I'd very much rather spend my time with you and Aleksandra than working on a Sunday.”

 

“It's still so weird to see you like this, you know? Without your suits, your ties, your sumptuous office. I wonder if it's the same for you: if you feel different when you're hanging out with us.”

 

“I do not permanently wear three-piece suits, Will. And I am capable of enjoying simple pleasures as much as anyone else. But I guess the image I try to convey and maintain at work might be compelling enough to make you believe otherwise.”

 

Will laughs softly.

 

“I'm getting to know and like both sides of you, if I have to be honest: the professional psychiatrist and the man who comes to my house to play with my daughter.”

 

Hannibal stops walking abruptly, his eyes shining in the sun with a suddenly unsettling light: Will would like to pretend he's not affected by that look, but he shivers and licks his lips.

 

“Oh, I assure you: those are not the only two sides of me. Perhaps in time, you'll have the chance of seeing more of them.”

 

Will doesn't reply, and is compelled to look away and focus on Tiny again, while his heart hammers in his chest; just like the other man, he's keeping his secrets close to his heart, without opening up too much. Because becoming too exposed in front of the other is dangerous for both of them.

 

He hears Hannibal sigh.

 

“Is this why you keep inviting me? To discover more and more about me? Am I that interesting to you?”

 

That eases the tension between them, and he smiles.

 

“I enjoy your company; and yes: you are interesting. And I kind of like seeing you out of your depth, trying so hard to impress us.”

 

“So should I consider these outings dates?”

 

Will sighs, closing his eyes for a moment.

 

“I'm not sure yet. You'll have to accept this answer for now.”

 

Aleksandra joins them again, hugging Will's waist and pulling at his jacket until he finally picks her up; she's a safe and comforting presence between them. Hannibal comes closer to fix the collar of her coat and her scarf, to gently brush her hair away from his eyes: he focuses on how he rearranges her, and isn't sure if he should find it endearing or unsettling.

 

“Daddy, Winston runs too fast for me. I'm tired.”

 

“I'll have to tell Winston to wait for you next time, then. But you're right, we should go back in and eat.”

 

She smiles and turns to Hannibal, who nods at her.

 

“I hope you'll like what I have prepared.”

 

And, of course, they both do: Hannibal treats them with one of the best lunches they ever enjoyed, and paired with the overwhelming care and attentions he dedicated to them, it ensure the success of the day.

 

Aleksandra eats everything in her plate with a satisfied smile on her lips, climbing on his lap as soon as she's done to show him her drawing.

 

Will is happy to just observe them, watching Hannibal's expressions change his features: he always looks so enamored with her, so ready to focus entirely on her like nothing else exists.

 

“Look, this is you, me and daddy swimming with the big, blue whale. Daddy asked me if I would be afraid, because she's so much bigger than me, but I told him that it would be okay with you and him there. Do you like it?”

 

“It's beautiful. May I keep it?”

 

Tiny looks at him and nods enthusiastically when Will gives her permission.

 

“You are a very brave girl, not even whales and sharks can scare you. You father must be so very proud of you.”

 

Hannibal stares at him while he says all this, and Will smiles languidly, feeling a warm feeling expand in his stomach as he watches Aleksandra look down on her drawing, before she runs to hide against his chest, overwhelmed by that praise.

 

“He's right, you know? You're my beautiful, brave, special little girl.”

 

Tiny giggles and kisses his cheek, before thanking Hannibal in her soft voice.

 

Will wonders if Hannibal has to work always this hard to get what he wants; probably not, considering how difficult it seems to be for him to decide what to do, how to navigate his relationship with the two of them.

 

He's a man who can seduce you with a look, have people on their knees for him in a matter of seconds: but he and Aleksandra, despite how readily they have welcomed him, are harder to please. But, again, he probably enjoys the challenge.

 

And, instead of being frustrated, he's drawn to them even more.

 

“Thank you for everything; for how you talk to her, how you listen to her. I think you're being a good influence on Tiny's life, which is something I didn't think I would ever say to a stranger.”

 

Aleksandra is asleep on the couch for her afternoon nap, and he and Hannibal are in the kitchen again, putting the dishes away. The man inclines his head and the bows it a little, acknowledging his words.

 

“Again; it's only my pleasure.”

 

“Yeah, we must really blow you away, considering all the food you cooked for us!”

 

He gets a strong feeling of deja-vu, because they're standing as close to each other as they were earlier that day. And the tension resurfaces, as strong as it was back then.

 

“Like I said, it was no trouble at all. I enjoy cooking, and my kitchen is always open to friends.”

 

Will inhales deeply at the word, relaxing against the counter: he closes his eyes for a moment, before speaking again, because he knows he's going to cross a line and he's not sure what he's going to find on the other side.

 

“I don't think that's true.”

 

Hannibal, of course, looks confused.

 

“What isn't?”

 

“I really don't think you want to be my friend. Not just that, at least.”

 

They look at each other, perhaps for the first time, with the true intensity of their feelings unveiled: they are both playing the long game, gaining little bits of trust, confidence and closeness slowly and difficultly.

 

But now... now Hannibal is taking off his mask for a moment, looking at him like he's starving, absolutely desperate to sink his teeth in the soft flesh on his body. Will never felt as strongly, sexually speaking, for anyone before.

 

And it has been so long since the last time he was touched: the memory is clouded by the fever that was burning him alive back then, and all he remember are strong hands pinning him down and fucking him apart. It's nice some he likes to think about anyway.

 

Hannibal, he's sure, would be so different.

 

“I will not deny it; I suspect there is no point in doing so. You are far too insightful for your own good.”

 

“And, truth be told, you haven't been as subtle as you'd like to think.”

 

Hannibal's smile is all teeth: he comes closer, trapping him against the counter; and even though they're barely touching, Will already feels overstimulated.

 

He reaches out and runs a hand through his hair, the first true contact between them: Hannibal closes his eyes and allows himself to be touched, gives Will free reins to do everything he wants; he pulls him closer, preparing himself for a kiss he can feel growing between them.

 

But when it comes, it's not what he expects.

 

Instead of going for his lips, Hannibal kisses his neck, pressing his lips against his pulse point, with the faintest hint of suction and teeth, making Will almost moan in response to it; he pulls at his hair, but the man doesn't move.

 

He keeps his lips pressed there for a very, very long moment; and a sudden tide of pleasure washes over him.

 

Will sees flashes of images behind his closed eyes: of teeth mauling at his flesh, eating him alive piece by piece until nothing will remain of him.

 

He knows what Hannibal could do to him if he wanted, can picture it so clearly in his mind that for a moment he's not sure he knows what's really happening and what's only inside his head. The man could choke him, hands wrapped around his neck and cutting off his air; he could grab a knife and stab him leaving to bleed out on the kitchen floor.

 

And he could undress him and fuck him raw right there. He doesn't know where his mind is going or what this wave of empathy is leaving inside of him.

 

But he's not afraid; he gives in to those feelings, and that alone is astounding.

 

There's something to see there, to discover, but he's too lost in the sensation to think clearly.

 

It's the thought of Aleksandra, asleep in the other room, that brings him back to the present.

 

Hannibal lets him go, looking at him still with that famished expression in his eyes; Will sighs, and mourns the loss of contact. They are both so desperate for it, and yet so afraid to make the definitive move.

 

Even now, even after such an intimate moment, they are wary of going any further. Will wants to kiss him, to hold him close and never allow him to leave them, but that's the irrational rush of pleasure still pumping into his veins speaking.

 

Because he knows it's too soon, that they both need more time.

 

Hannibal licks his lips, like a feline: and Will imagines him as a lion with his muzzle stained with blood.

 

"And how does that make you feel?"

 

He helplessly shakes his head.

 

"I'm not sure. I really am not. I feel like I'm constantly balancing on a knife edge with you. You occupy way too much space inside my mind; I'm still struggling to understand how to cope with that."

 

Hannibal, unsurprisingly, nods. His emotions are back under his control already, hidden behind the mask he wears so well. But Will can still feel the heat of his look imprinted on his skin, like nails clawing at it and flaying him alive.

 

"I understand, of course. I apologize if I overstepped."

 

He's not really sorry, they both know that perfectly well;and, if he could, he'd press Will further, kissing him and forcing him to confront their feelings.

 

But Hannibal Lecter is more patient than that. And Will is thankful for it, even if it hides secret machinations he's not sure he'd like if he figured them out.

 

"You didn't. You really didn't... But..."

 

"But now it's not the right time. I agree. We should focus on getting to know each other better."

 

Will nods and then smiles softly: his neck still pulses when Hannibal has kissed him, and there's so much more he'd like to say.

 

He could use all the knowledge he has gathered on him to nail him down, to expose all his secret, that darkness inside of him that haunts him. He could force him to talk about the nightmares and terrible loneliness he sees reflected in his eyes and that he's so determined to understand.

 

But he doesn't.

 

He simply follows him back to the living room and to Aleksandra.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long, but look! Long chapter with a lot of Tiny being adorable. I hope you'll like it.  
> Thanks to all of you for your amazing comments, they make me so happy. 
> 
> Ps: Hannibal won't serve people to Tiny, I hope you'll be all relieved by that. Also... I know the topic of who her other parent is it's very heated, but I do plan to have him appear, but I don't plan to have love triangles or anything like that. This story is strictly Hannibal/Will. But do tell me what you think of it!

When the day of their dinner at his house finally comes, Hannibal takes his time to prepare everything, to make sure every aspect of it is carefully planned and perfectly realized. The day is cold, and the constant raining is a nuisance to him, but it does not messes with the schedule; he calls Will anyway, to make sure he'll get there regardless of the weather. He's a polite host, after all, and always concerned about his guests safety.

 

More or less.

 

Cooking occupies him for the entire afternoon, and while he attentively prepares their meal, he can't help thinking about Aleksandra and Will, and about the fact that he'll finally meet them in an environment he can fully control.

 

During the last few weeks, he seems to have forgotten much of his instinctive self preservation: he exposed himself, lowered his walls, and all this because of this new and overwhelming desire to get closer to the two of them, to carve himself a place in their family unit and become a part of it.

 

And it's something he's still struggling to come to terms with.

 

Aleksandra is in his thoughts way more often than he'd like to admit: she occupies them with her genuine smiles, her soft voice and her kindness, with her smart eyes looking back at him.

 

Hannibal asks himself what do they see, when they stare at him so intensely: she's probably still too little to fully understand what her natural perceptiveness catches up in him; she sees a lonely man, so much like her father, a weird and funny man who listens to her and who's becoming a more and more important part of her life.

 

He has a power there that would be so easy to abuse; he could manipulate her to get all he wants from her and Will, could use all his influence to make them belong to him. He thought about it, long nights spent imagining all the different outcomes and strategies to achieve his goals.

 

But Aleksandra is unpredictable as much as her father; and, in the end, he's the one who feels manipulated. They influenced him more than he ever influenced them: they make him play by their rules and chain him to their family in ways he can't ever predict entirely.

 

Perhaps it's his soft spot for the little girl that allows all this to happen; or how fascinating Will is for him, with his haunted eyes, his demons hiding under his skin and the never ending love and desire of protection he feels towards his daughter.

 

Hannibal understood quickly that his usual tactics where not going to work in this situation: he needs to win them over, to seduce them, to offer them his best and cleaner face, to charm them with kindness and attentions. What surprises him is how simple it is for him to forget all his goals when he is with them: he enjoys them genuinely, in ways it rarely happens to him.

 

He's used to be charming, to wrap himself up in smoke and pollute other people's perception of him with his natural ability to understand what they want; he gives them the man they want to see, the perfectly carved mask of normality he wears to fit in and hide the beast inside of him.

 

 

 But he forgets to hide when he is with them: and perhaps what he reveals in those moments of honesty, it's what is really making the wheels turn in his favor.

 

The vivid imagine of the look he saw in Will's eyes while they were alone in the kitchen, right after he kissed his neck, floods his mind suddenly and he smiles to himself: the man hides and guards himself well enough to fool all the people around him, even the ones who should be trained in uncovering the darkness inside men. Just like he does.

 

But only Hannibal is aware of it, it seems: that flash of wildness that reflects in his pupils almost blown black, in the smirk on his lips, in the white of his teeth; Will Graham is a good man, a good father, and at the same time, he has a monster buried in his heart. He could be terrible if he let it loose, if he allowed it to be free.

 

Hannibal wants to see it, just as much as he enjoys seeing him care for his daughter, with a warm smile and serene eyes looking at him. He wants to consume both sides of Will and to know how aware of the darkness he hides in himself he is.

 

He can only suspect, lick his lips and taste Will's skin in the back of his mouth: he wonders what sinking his teeth in the soft flesh of his body would taste like.

 

Aleksandra comes to him again in the memory palace of his mind: with her small, sticky hands clinging to his, with a smile on her lips and her head resting on his shoulder; the two thoughts seem to be impossible to separate.

 

On one side, there's his desire to see Will unhinged, with all his forts and boundaries removed, to see what he could do if he was pushed far enough. On the other, he finds his affection for Aleksandra, that's far more genuine that he'd like it to be; and how much he wants to belong in the happiness that exists in her and Will's little family.

 

He has the feeling he might be wanting too many things, and the fact that he can't decide which one he wants more confuses him like it never happened before; and he knows he only wants to get himself tangled in that more and more.

 

Hannibal shrugs to himself, locking those thoughts away for the tine being; and goes back to his cooking.

 

\-----

 

Will has Aleksandra on his hip when Hannibal opens the door, holding her in his arms while they both smile up to him and the little girl waves her small hand in his direction. He reciprocates the smile and welcomes them in. 

 

 

“You two made it; that is a relief.”

 

“Yeah, thankfully: the weather is terrible, but we're glad to be here; aren't we, Tiny?”

 

The child nods, and when Will finally lets her down, she runs to hug Hannibal; he runs his fingers through her hair, gently petting her until she manages to make him kneel so she can give him a kiss on the cheek.

 

Only after she's satisfied with her greetings, she steps back a little so she can twirl and show him her new dress: the blue velvet and the white of the shirt compliment her eyes, as does the ribbon in her hair.

 

“Look at my new dress! Do you like it? Daddy got it for me just to come and see you!”

 

“I very much do: you look adorable and this dress is really pretty. Your dad has good taste.”

 

Aleksandra flushes and giggles, thanking him shyly.

 

Will smiles at him; his eyes always soften when he looks at him and Aleksandra together, while they talk and play. He can't seem to be able to help himself; he wonders what he thinks about in those moments, what he imagines and longs for.

 

They are both overwhelmed by Tiny's enthusiasm, by the affection she has been showering on him and by how strong their bond became: but they still have their own desires, expectations and goals in mind.

 

Hannibal observes Will with his head slightly tilted to one side.

 

“You look very good yourself, Will. I am honored that you two decided to wear your best clothes just to come and see me.”

 

Will laughs brightly, his face suddenly animated by that simply gesture.

 

“We just adapted to your style. We didn't want to look out of place.”

 

Hannibal merely nods, but the conversation helped easing any trace of awkwardness.

 

Aleksandra and Will both look around themselves in awe of his house, and he feels a sense of pride in that, in showing off in front of them: he can't help it nor wants to. They deserve to be amazed, after all, to be spoiled like they have never been before.

 

And he fully intends to be the one who will achieve this.

 

“Your house is so big! Aren't you lonely here all on your own?”

 

“Sometimes; but now you and your father are here and I won't be feeling lonely tonight thanks to you two.”

 

She smiles and hides behind her father's leg; Will grins at him, before picking her up again and following Hannibal deeper inside the foreign rooms. Hannibal can't help looking at him, watching him and his daughter whispering to each other, admiring the pleased and relaxed look on his face and the glimmer in his eyes.

 

“I have a surprise for you, Aleksandra.”

 

The girl immediately looks at him excited and cheerful, while Will rises his eyebrows at looks at him with an ironic grin on his lips, curious to see what he'll do.

 

“What is it? What is it? Can I see it?”

 

“May I pick you up so I can show you?”

 

She looks at Will expectantly, until the man nods and hands the girl to him: Aleksandra settles comfortably in his arms, her head against his shoulder; Hannibal smiles down at her, then he takes her to the drawing room to show her the framed drawing she gave him, exposed above his fireplace.

 

Aleksandra gapes in surprise at that sight, then looks back and forth at him and at the drawing, before frowning a little, assuming her usual solemn expression that makes her look so much like her father; Will, on the other hand, looks endeared by his gesture.

 

Hannibal treasured her drawing and exposed it tonight for the first time since the girl gave it to him; it's, possibly, a cheap trick to ensure a positive reaction from her and Will, but he's not above using them if it means getting what he wants: and right now, he has their undivided attention exactly where he wanted it.

 

The little girl sighs heavily when Will starts rubbing her back, but then turns towards him to smile and giggle in delight, a soft blush of pride appearing on her face.

 

“Look, daddy! It's my drawing!”

 

Will looks amused as he gently kisses the top of her head and goes along with her enthusiasm.

 

“Yeah, I see that, Sharky. Hannibal must've liked it a lot to put it there. You should be very proud of yourself.”

 

“Did you really like it a lot?”

 

Hannibal looks directly at her, never breaking eye contact: Aleksandra's eyes are deep and focused only on him, even though they both can feel Will's presence behind them, observing both of them in silence, but giving them their moment.

 

She's smart, and she would immediately catch him, if he tried to be condescending; so he always tries to speak as truthfully as he can: and now more than ever, because Will watching him to see how he'll reply.

 

“Of course I did; it is a very precious gift for me. Thank you for giving it to me.”

 

Aleksandra's frown dissipates, and changes into a genuine smile; she looks at Will again for a moment, catching his eyes, and then hugs Hannibal tight, thanking him in her small voice before kissing his cheek.

 

He returns the hugs, inhaling her scent and caressing her hair: his eyes are on Will, on the way he observes them, on his placid, but attentive expression that never fails to give him a thrill of excitement and ignite his desire to know what he's thinking about, what's lurking inside his mind and what form the idea the man has of him is taking.

 

Even though he has Aleksandra in his arms, and he's focusing on her comforting weight and presence, he can't stop his mind from wandering away, from imagine how it would feel to tear Will apart and discover all his secrets, to melt his mind and body with his own and slip into him until he'll know everything.

 

He wonders if Will ever feels the same towards him.

 

“You're so charming with her: it's like you know instinctively what to do to make her love you even more.”

 

They have a brief moment alone, while Tiny is off exploring his house with her trusted shark stuffed animal in her arms, and the two of them can indulge themselves by sitting on the couch in the drawing room.

 

Will looks glowing in the light of the fireplace, and he's enthralled by it.

 

“I do no pretend with her; I try to be as honest as I can.”

 

“Which is a lot more than you can say for your usual interactions with people, I guess.”

 

He's fascinated by the way the man uses his words, by how skilled he is to see inside of him; he's a very intelligent man, one of those he should be afraid of and run away from with all his dark secrets still safely hidden, because people like Will Graham see too much and they keep pushing forward relentlessly.

 

But Hannibal, instead of being afraid, is only drawn more and more to him.

 

“Do you believe I am a liar in my everyday life?”

 

Will sighs deeply before replying, his voice coming from a very deep place inside of him, filled with colors new to him.

 

“I think you know how to guard yourself well, that you usually don't trust people enough to let them in and allow them to really see you; you hide from them, they don't see the whole truth of you. But you let us in, me and Tiny. I'm still curious about that.”

 

Silence falls between them for a moment: he always feels this pull towards Will, a deep seethed desire to touch him, to bite down on him and leave marks on his skin. And yet, it feels like Will and Aleksandra are the ones who are leaving theirs on him.

 

He smiles, satisfied.

 

“I simply enjoy your company; that is all. I believe we had this conversation before.”

 

“Yes, we had. But I enjoy pocking you.”

 

Hannibal folds his hands in his lap and stares at him intently.

 

“Did you accept my invitation just to be able to see me in my realm, so to speak? To examine my reactions in this setting?”

 

Will nods, a grin on his face.

 

“You do it with me all the time; it's only fair I return the favor.”

 

They stare at each other for a long time after that; Hannibal sees the caution that Will has in handling him, how he tries to expose his weaknesses, but without alerting him of his intentions. He never met someone who was so alike to him, who could give him a thrill of danger and the comfort of understanding at the same time.

 

“And are you satisfied with your findings so far? Am I being interesting enough?”

 

“The evening just started, I'm sure you won't disappoint me.”

 

For a while, they shift the topic of their conversation to idle talks: he asks about his job, about how Aleksandra is lately, and Will politely answers, a smile on his lips and a bright light in his eyes. No matter how much they attempt to stay on a safe ground, they keep looking at each other with a desire in their gazes that makes Hannibal wish they were alone in the house, so he could reach out and give Will what he wants.

 

What they both want.

 

Will and Aleksandra entered his life quietly at first, in the shape of something easy to control, of something he could manipulate to his liking: he underestimated them and the feelings that blossomed from that encounter became far too much. And now he feels like he's far too entangled in them to free himself.

 

He's not sure he wants to do that.

 

“Shall we retrieve Aleksandra and start on our dinner?”

 

The man seems to come back to his senses right away when his daughter is mentioned.

 

“Yeah, sorry, you're right. Tiny's probably hiding somewhere, exploring. I hope you don't mind that.”

 

“Not at all; she can go wherever she wants in here. May I ask you a question before we go looking for her?”

 

Will shrugs and then nods, eyes focused on him.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Why do you call her 'Tiny'?”

 

A smile opens on his face, and the man relaxes against the couch again, laughing softly.

 

“Took you long enough to ask that.”

 

Hannibal has no reactions and makes no movements or comments: he just waits in silence for Will to answer his question.

 

“It started when she was just born and I saw her for the first time... you know, I was still in so much pain, I was exhausted, alone and she was born slightly premature, so I was beside myself with worry... but then they put her in my arms, and I looked at her and she was so small, so frail. She was perfect. I was so overwhelmed in that moment. It just came naturally to me to call her that and it stuck. Simple as that.”

 

The looks that passed on his face revealed all the tenderness and love Will feels for his daughter; Hannibal eats it up, analyzes it inside himself while he stares at him and feels his fingers ache with the need to touch him, to feel his warm skin under his. He nods in the end, pleased with his answer: he can read so much in it, in his honesty, in how proud of his little girl he is.

 

It brings back old memories for him as well: those dangerous thoughts he wants to avoid at all costs when he's under his scrutiny, like he's almost afraid the man could be able to read them on his face and expose them.

 

Will catches his gaze; and Hannibal can feel that electricity again, that current running between them that is becoming so strong it would take only a spark to set it off and burn them alive. The man wets his lips unconsciously, and the perfect image of his beauty almost makes him lose control overt himself and do something he would surely regret.

 

So Hannibal gets up without another word.

 

With Will in his tails, probably busy taking note of everything he sees in his house, he follows Tiny's delicate, but unmistakable scent through the rooms, until he finds her in his own bedroom.

 

“I think she might be hiding under the bed.”

 

“Don't you lock the doors to your private rooms when you have guests?”

 

He looks amused, not bothered or angry with Aleksandra for the embarrassment she's causing him: he's remarkable in that too, Hannibal notes. He encourages his daughter's curiosity, her natural thirst for adventures; there's so much to discover about their relationship, so many secrets to uncover.

 

“I have nothing to hide. May go to retrieve her myself?”

 

Will shrugs.

 

“Sure, suits yourself. I'll be here.”

 

Hannibal takes off his jacket and his waistcoat and gently places them on the bed; he's aware of Will's eyes on his back, assessing his body and he smiles to himself at that: then he gets down on his knees to peak under the bed.

 

Aleksandra giggles when she sees him, clinging to her stuffed animal and waving at him; she's small enough to fit under there with no discomfort and Hannibal smiles back, before mirroring her position and lying on his stomach to look at her better.

 

“Hello there.”

 

“Hi, Hannibal.”

 

“May I ask you why you're hiding under my bed?”

 

Her smiles becomes brighter.

 

“I'm exploring!”

 

Hannibal nods and reaches out a hand to gently touch hers: she's warm and soft under his fingers and grins even more at the contact.

 

He hears Will approaching them, but can only see his legs in his peripheral view; the man is quiet for a moment, probably busy observing them. After a few moments, he hears Tiny giggling again, her crystalline laugh echoing around them.

 

“Daddy, I can see your shoes from here!”

 

“They aren't very nice shoes, are they?”

 

Aleksandra keeps smiling up to Hannibal, like they're sharing some sort of secret Will can't know about and that passes only through their eyes.

 

“No, no. They are so bad, daddy!”

 

“So, have you found anything interesting while you were busy exploring under my bed?”

 

She shakes her head, a little disappointed.

 

“No, there is nothing here; but it was nice and quiet, and I liked it so I stayed there waiting for you and daddy to come and find me! Like it's a game of hide and seek, you know? Do you like to play hide and seek?”

 

“I do; and I am very glad I found you. Since there is nothing worth exploring there, would it be okay to come out now so we can go to dinner? I am sure you are hungry.”

 

The child considers him for a moment, her sweet eyes shining in the half darkness there; Hannibal caresses her hair softly and in the end she nods.

 

“Okay. Can you pick me up for a while?”

 

“Of course I can; come now.”

 

She reaches up to him right away when they're both back on their feet, and Hannibal doesn't waste time dressing up again before picking her up and holding her on his hip; she gives him a big kiss on the cheek and clings to him.

 

“Tiny! What did I tell you about wandering off on your own?”

 

Aleksandra stares at Will through her curls and her long lashes, her head perched on his shoulder; she can see his benevolent expression, so she knows she's not in any trouble, and is relaxed in his arms.

 

“Not to do that? But daddy! This house is so big! There are so many things to explore! And Hannibal said it was okay.”

 

“I did. You can go anywhere you want in here, but you must also listen to your father's concerns.”

 

Will smiles and at shaking his head; he looks so pleased by the way his child is able to swing Hannibal around and make him do all she asks.

 

“You're spoiling her.”

 

“I believe she deserves to be spoiled once in a while; and that you enjoy that as well.”

 

The man stares at him and grins. Hannibal holds Tiny safely in his arms and the way Will looks at both of them like that is always filled with a distant longing that makes his eyes deeper and even more expressive than they usually are.

 

It's that look that gives Hannibal a slight hint of hope that his attempts to win him over and secure his trust are not in vain.

 

“What is that, Hannibal? What is that?”

 

Tiny captures his attention again, pointing her little finger towards the armor he keep exposed in the room; Will seems to notice it for the first time right then, like he had been too focused on Aleksandra and on him to do it before.

 

Hannibal stops right in front of it with the little girl in his arms, and she stares at the item admired and curious, with no intimidation on her face.

 

“It's a Japanese war armor, a very antique piece that men used to wear in battle to keep themselves safe. A very dear friend gave it to me a long time ago: a special woman who was very dear to me.”

 

She nods, with her serious and solemn expression opening on her face: then she reaches out a little hand to touch it briefly.

 

“It's so beautiful. But a little scary too. Daddy, daddy! Look at it! Isn't it pretty?”

 

“It is, Sharky. And it must mean a lot to Hannibal.”

 

He nods politely to both of them, stares in their identical eyes and sees himself reflected in them, observing how they see him, what shapes he take for them: they expose his weaknesses, the softest and most loving parts of him. They're able to slide under all his layers of crafted manipulations, lies and secrets.

 

And no matter how much darkness there is there, they don't seem to be scared. Hannibal takes a deep breath, inhaling their mixed scents and then he smiles.

 

He smiles despite the unsettling uncertainty he feels: he never questioned his place in the world, his carefully planned life, the blood trail he leaves behind himself and that is going to be his legacy; but now he sees this completely different place he wants to belong into, this family he feels so drawn to despite the dangers.

 

“Yes, it's a very important heirloom for me. It reminds me of a different time and place that I treasure in my memories.”

 

“Can I meet the friend that gave it to you, Hannibal? Is she pretty and nice? What is her name?”

 

Hannibal laughs softly at her question, so filled with innocence and charm.

 

“I am afraid she lives too far away from here for you to be able to do that. Her name is Murasaki, she is my aunt by marriage; but I will tell her all about you, would that suffice?”

 

Tiny thinks on his proposal for a moment, before nodding.

 

“Okay!”

 

“Now we should really go downstairs and start eating, no?”

 

Will is shaken out his thoughts by his voice, like he was so immersed in his observation of them, into focusing on Hannibal's words that he disconnected from the present time for a moment.

 

His mind is such a fine instrument, a terrifying and mysterious machine he wants to dismantles and put back together again to see how it works.

 

Hannibal licks his lips.

 

Will nods at him, before takes Tiny into his arms, so he's able to put the clothes he left on the bed back on.

 

Tiny keeps looking at both of them with a soft expression on his face and a delighted glimmer in his eyes. He returns the look and tries to shake away all his dark feelings once again.

 

\-----

 

The dinner is a success beyond his rosier expectations: he spends most of it staring at the satisfied expressions on Aleksandra and Will's faces, smiling at them and making sure they are completely at ease in his presence.

 

He has the little girl seated on a little hill of pillows to make sure she reaches the table, but she still looks small and foreign in his dining room, an incongruity in his perfectly crafted life, with plastic cutlery in her hands and a colorful sippy cup in front of her. But Hannibal can't help enjoying it probably more than he should.

 

He made a simple dinner, something far from his lavish dinner parties, that even a child like Tiny could appreciate.

 

Hannibal watches her carefully eat the bruschette with fresh tomatoes, oregano, olive oil and a sprinkle of salt on top he made as antipasto, paying attention not to drop anything, a concentrated expression on her face as her father helps cleaning her mouth with his expensive napkin. She nods happily when he asks her if she liked them.

 

A simple streak with mushrooms cream and mashed potatoes follows, and Tiny seems to appreciate it even more, as does Will, who stares at the very sparse food presentation for a few seconds, before laughing briefly.

 

“You always end up eating or cooking really undignified food when you are with us; one of these days you should treat us with some pretentious French dish we won't be able to pronounce and that we ignore what's made with!”

 

Will's laugh is crystalline like his daughter's; it's a sound that rings true and seductive to his ears. He smiles and drinks some more wine.

 

“There is nothing undignified about simple, but good food; it is no burden to accommodate my skills to your tastes. I am just glad you two enjoy what I prepare for you. But if you insist, I'll make something a little more challenging next time.”

 

He watches with a subtle smile on his lips as Will cuts more meat for Aleksandra, who patiently waits with her eyes scanning the room around her, curiosity making them shine while a soft flush appears on her cheeks as she sips some of her juice.

 

Hannibal considered using his usual ingredient for tonight's dinner: but no matter how tempting the idea was, it seemed to him that none of his victims were worthy of being consumed by the little girl. She has a simple innocence he doesn’t want to taint just yet, with nothing that concerns his murders and his crimes. For her, he wants to be as honest as he can be, just like he told her father.

 

Will alone would be a completely different matter: he secretly savors in his mouth the expectation he feels towards the moment he'll be able to cook for him human flesh, to watch him chew and swallow it and make him join in on his secrets.

 

He sips his wine slowly, his eyes scanning the scene before him: he stares at Will as he take another bite of his food and the offers one to Aleksandra, the expression on their faces, the softness of their features and the relaxed atmosphere he managed to create. It would take so little to ruin it.

 

If only Will could see him for the monster he truly is, if he only knew who he's inviting in his and his daughter's life...

 

“I hope you two are finding the food good enough to satisfy your palate.”

 

“It's great, Hannibal. Really. Right, Sharky?”

 

Aleksandra nods with her mouth still half full, and chews quickly to be able to reply to her father.

 

“It is all so tasty, Hannibal. You should give daddy some lessons, because what he cooks is not very good sometimes.”

 

Will pretends to be offended and tickles her a little, making her squeal and making Hannibal grin at them: his eyes are famished for that sight, he wants to be filled with it, always have it in front of him. He wants to devour what Aleksandra and Will represent for him so bad he feels a gaping whole in his stomach despite all the food in front of them.

 

“I am glad to hear that. And, of course, I would happily teach you, Will, if you wanted me to.”

 

The man sighs, and relaxes against his chair, eyes closing for a second: his fingers brush against his for a very brief instant that catches him so unprepared he almost reaches forward to grab his hand not to let him move away. Will sees that reflected in the look on his face, in the longing in his gaze.

 

It's such an intense feeling, that Hannibal can feel it clearly on his skin.

 

“Are you sure I'm worth the effort? I'd be a terrible student; you'd get stuck with me burning meal after meal for hours.”

 

Hannibal smiles exposing his teeth, and he can clearly see Will shiver; Aleksandra's eyes are pointed at the two of them, concentrated and solemn.

 

“I doubt spending time with you or Aleksandra could ever be a waste of time for me.”

 

Will laughs softly at turn to his daughter, who holds his hand and giggles at the compliment.

 

“When did you learn how to cook, Hannibal? Were you already old?”

 

Aleksandra, having finished all the food in her plate, is allowed to sit on Will's lap while they relax before the dessert. She's satisfied and pliant in his arms, and her father gently kisses the top of her head and lulls her in his arms while they both wait for Hannibal to reply.

 

“No, I was actually very young. I learned from my uncle's cook while I lived in France with him; she was a very talented and gentle woman, who taught me much of what I know now.”

 

She looks positively impressed by his tale, her small mouth hanging open for a second, before she asks more.

 

“Was it very hard? Did you burn food a lot like daddy does?”

 

Will laughs, with no trace of embarrassment in his voice, and he looks at Hannibal with and indulgent look in his eyes. He returns it with a smile.

 

“It was sometimes: I made many mistakes, burnt a few dishes. But in time I got better, I mastered my technique and became very good at it. It is not very hard if you practice and put a lot of efforts into your goals.”

 

Hannibal's eyes indulge on Will; the man holds his daughter close to his chest, and observes him with something that looks like tenderness in his expression. He's too clever not to understand that Hannibal is trying to impress him by showing him how close his bond with Tiny is becoming, slipping under his skin with his reassuring smiles and his perfectly crafted ways.

 

But Will allows it, he goes along with it: responds with his wit that borders on rudeness, with his constant pushing at his boundaries. Hannibal reverts in their little game, drinks it in and allows it to fill him up, fueling him forward.

 

Because he wants so much more from Will, desires to have him so much closer than he ever did so far, so he'll be able to consume him completely and see the whole truth of him.

 

But what Will getting out of their exchanges, it's still a mystery for him, something he desperately wants to understand. The man allows him so much, lets him into his life, into his daughter's, with an apparent naivety that confuses him: he knows Will is smart enough to see more of him than other people do, that he can pick up the faint cracks in his mask.

 

Yet there he is: trusting him. Or so it seems.

 

He returns his attention to Aleksandra, who is whispering something into her father's hear that makes them both smile softly at him.

 

“Can I learn how to cook too, Hannibal? Please, please, please!”

 

Hannibal laughs and reaches forward to gently caress her hair.

 

“Of course you can. I could teach both of you, if that is okay with you, Will?”

 

She turns around in Will's lap and put her arms around his neck, holding him with a hopeful expression opening on her face.

 

“Please say yes, daddy!”

 

Will kisses the little girl's forehead, and laughs.

 

“Sure, why not: I'd love that actually. We could have little lessons all together, and Hannibal would show us everything. Would you like that, Sharky?”

 

Aleksandra nods and accepts her father's kisses with soft giggles and gentle caresses on his face. She has such small hands, delicate and fragile; Hannibal is always mesmerized by how much her presence in his life matters to him now.

 

He notices the smallest details about her, every shift in her mood: she captures his attention at all times with her smiles, her kindness, her crystalline innocence and her affection for him. Hannibal smiles at her as he turns his attention back on Will.

 

There's something in his voice that gives him hope; it makes him understand that he's not the only one fighting and secretly scheming to find ways to spend more time with the two of them: they look forward to it too.

 

And Will's eyes have that fire creeping behind them that speaks louder that his words; he understands it very well, this foreign and mysterious desire for companionship he feels towards the man, the need to become part of their family. And to see that in Will too it's as unsettling as it is reassuring.

 

“It is settled them. I look forward to it very much.”

 

Hannibal sips his wine in silence, content and satisfied. He licks his lips while Will doesn't look.

 

\-----

 

Aleksandra eats two whole slices of Caprese all by herself for dessert, the tip of her nose and her fingers stained with chocolate and sugar by the end of the meal; Will indulges her for one evening, allows her to be as loud and expansive as she wants, and Hannibal forgets all his decorum to join in on the relaxed atmosphere the little girl creates.

 

His house feels warmer and more welcoming than it ever did; it's something he'd love to get used to. Just as much as he loves the thrill of having Will sitting at his table while his house is filled with his secrets and proofs of his crimes, right after his nose, but still invisible to him.

 

He smiles to himself at the thought of the underlying manipulation that exists between them and that he knows Will can feel even though he probably can't understand what it is yet.

 

He will one day; Hannibal is sure of it.

 

Will and Aleksandra insist on helping him with the dishes after the dinner is concluded, and Hannibal allows it with a courteous nod that follows a brief argument. He sits Aleksandra on the counter, watching her as she smiles proudly and kicks her legs, satisfied with her privileged position.

 

Both he and Will carefully hand her spoons and forks that the child carefully dries, and that then helps Hannibal put in their respective drawers with her usual concentrated and serious expression appearing on her face.

 

“You are an amazing kitchen helper, Aleksandra. I might have to ask your father if I can borrow you sometimes, so you can organize the cutlery and make everything more efficient.”

 

She looks at him for a long moment to see if he's lying or making fun of her, but smiles and laughs softly when she realizes he's being honest.

 

“You are so funny and weird.”

 

Will takes him aside for a moment, after they settle in the drawing room and Tiny is sitting safely on the couch, busy going through the pages of some of the new book Hannibal got her; he's grinning, his eyes focused on his daughter, but still keeping his attention focused on him.

 

“You have an amazing gift with her, you know that? She adores you, you make her feel so safe and comfortable.”

 

“I try to put her at ease when she is with me as much as I can; I am glad to see I am successful. I want nothing more than for Aleksandra to know she has a safe place here with me.”

 

The man relaxes against the wall, watching Hannibal as he reignites the fire; he sighs heavily, and Hannibal catches him closing his eyes for a moment, like he's searching for the right words to say next.

 

“It's hard to believe you have no experience in parenting; you handle her so naturally, like you know perfectly what to do, what to say...”

 

“I have no children, that I can assure you: perhaps I just found an immediate connection with her. It is surprising for me as well, believe me.”

 

Will smiles.

 

“I'm kinda jealous, you know? Of how easy it seems to be for you to handle her; it was never like that for me, I'm always obsessed with the fear of letting her down. Being a father comes with a lot of doubts.”

 

Hannibal comes closer, standing right in front of him: he doesn't touch him, but Will inhales sharply and keeps eye contact with him even though he can tell he's not completely calm under his scrutiny. It gives him a sense of power that tastes sweet in his mouth, to be able to make Will squirm as much as he does with him.

 

And he shows it so well; discomfort looks good on him.

 

“Will, you're an amazing father; Aleksandra adores you and you two have a bond I will never be able to replicate or replace. There is no need to be jealous of me.”

 

A soft, but proud smile creeps on his lips, and he looks away, sighing heavily.

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, you know? But... thanks, for saying that. I appreciate it.”

 

Hannibal nods courteously at him, cornering him against the wall while the man is distracted for a moment to check on his daughter.

 

“I only say it because I mean it and it is true: you seem to have troubles accepting praise. If I were your psychiatrist, I would find it very interesting.”

 

Will laughs again: he looks relaxed, peaceful, and that must be something he doesn't get to experience very often because his whole face becomes animated and a beautiful flush appears on it. Hannibal watches it with the keen interest of a scientist observing a new and fascinating phenomenon.

 

Everything about Will is a constant discovery, and it ignites his curiosity.

 

“Well, thankfully for me, you're not.”

 

He moves away from him to join his daughter on the couch, but before he can go very far, Hannibal grabs his elbow hard enough to stop him, but not to hurt him, forcing him to stay where he is.

 

Will looks at him with a sudden surprise clouding his bright, blue eyes; the change is so sudden and intense it gives him a soft thrill of pleasure, to watch the man respond to even the smallest imposition or threat it's endlessly fascinating. He inhales softly how the air changes around him.

 

”But what about you? Do you feel comfortable in my presence?”

 

Hannibal feels him take a very deep breath through their point of contact: he's slightly tense, but he still doesn't look away from him. The strength he can see in his eyes is incredible; even when cornered and out of his depth, Will keeps fighting back, refusing to be put down by anyone and anything.

 

All his attempts to catch him off guard, to expose him and make him vulnerable are met with a subtle, but strong response; and Hannibal finds it beautiful, it's what keeps him so desperately drawn to him. In a new, devastatingly strong bout of emotions, he wishes he could pin Will against the wall and kiss him, confuse his mouth until he'll be completely at his mercy.

 

What is really odd, it's that in these moments he's the one who feels at Will's mercy, debased and need like it never happened to him before.

 

He licks his lips while he waits for an answer, and Will responds with a subtle smile that lights up his whole face.

 

The loud and roaring sound of a sudden thunder, followed by Aleksandra's high pitched scream, it's what interrupts their moment: Will disentangles himself from him right away and runs towards his daughter, taking her into his arms as she sobs quietly against his chest.

 

Hannibal joins them right away, after collecting himself for a second: Tiny's face is all red and full of tears when he approaches and gently caresses her hair. They hold the child between them until she calms a little, even though the following thunders keep making her shivers and sob from time to time.

 

“Ssh, Tiny, it's okay. Daddy's here, and Hannibal is here too, see? You're safe, nothing can hurt you.”

 

“But daddy! It's so loud! I don't like it, make it stop!”

 

Will looks at him for a second and smiles indulgently.

 

“She's scared of loud noises; but she'll calm down in a while.”

 

“It is perfectly okay to be scared; only fools do not fear anything. And her fear is perfectly justified.”

 

He addresses the child directly, taking her into his arms and hugging her firmly, rubbing her back and caressing her hair. Will sighs and doesn't let go of her hand, keeps caressing it even when she's focused on Hannibal.

 

“Would like me to play something while the thunderstorm continues? Would that help distracting you from the fear? We can go in the music room and you can sit next to me.”

 

Aleksandra takes a deep, shaky breath to try to regulate her breathing; she looks back to her father, who nods with a smile, encouraging her to say yes. There's a lot of gratefulness in his eyes and Hannibal silently smiles to himself.

 

“What do you play?”

 

“The harpsichord: it is a very old and beautiful instrument. I am sure you will like it as well.”

 

She sniffs again one last time, hugging her stuffed animal when Will hands it to her; then she nods and a little smiles appears on her lips.

 

Hannibal smiles back as he gently kisses her forehead.

 

\-----

Tiny takes her time to explore the room and the instrument, her eyes full of wonderful curiosity and awe: she runs her little hands on the keyboards, on the intricate decorations and on the smooth wood; the child looks completely fascinated by it, and Hannibal catches Will smiling proudly at her, his features relaxed once again.

 

They put aside their previous conversation to focus entirely on Aleksandra and on her well being.

 

She giggles delighted when she presses a few keys, enjoying the new sounds she produced.

 

Her fear seems forgotten for now; Hannibal approaches her and helps her settling on the bench, sitting next to her. The child puts her head on his shoulder and clings to him, taking deep breaths as she tries to focus only on him and not on the storm outside.

 

“Do you like how it sounds, Tiny? May I call you that or does it bother you?”

 

She shakes her head and looks at Will for a moment, before sighing and smiling at him.

 

“It's okay, you can call me that. I like it! Can you play something nice, please?”

 

Will gives her a big kiss on the forehead and when she starts laughing while whining softly a little, he turns his attention to him.

 

“You can really do everything; how are you so perfect? Are you even real?”

 

Hannibal gives him a long look; and Aleksandra always observes their exchange with her eyes shining interested, amused and hopeful. He wonders what is she hoping for.

 

“Please, Will. Don't mock me in front of my public right before a performance.”

 

He laughs at him, before grabbing a chair and settling next to them in silence.

 

He concentrates on playing for a few minutes, simple and innocent melodies that help Aleksandra relax and distract her from her fears; she hums along, kicking her legs under the bench and smiling excited.

 

He feels important, like her undivided attention is the highest honor he could ever obtain, and it makes him understand even more how important she became for him: he craves her approval, her sweet eyes focused on him, her trust. He glances at Will from time to time, and the serenity in his expression confuses him.

 

They know nothing about each other, they are strangers full of secrets and dark corners inside of them, and yet they're already so linked, starving for connection and intimacy. Will should know better than to trust someone like him, and yet here they are, entangling their lives quicker and more recklessly than they should.

 

He allows him close to his daughter: he slides past the dangers and the threats to only focus on Aleksandra's happy expression, on how peaceful she looks now.

 

Hannibal wishes he could crack open Will's skull to know what he's thinking about, if he's truly that reckless or just putting on some sort of facade; he wants to dig his hands inside his brain and find out everything about his doubts and feelings.

 

He wants to grab a scalpel and dissect him, cut him open piece by piece and own every single one of them, sink his teeth in his flesh to see what Will would do then.

 

If he would realize what a big mistake he made when he let him in or if he'll be even more attracted to the darkness inside of him.

 

Hannibal focuses on Aleksandra again, who seems to have forgotten her fears and the thunders to assume a relaxed expression; she clings to him and concentrated entirely on him, but still looks to her dad from time to time and smiles gently.

 

He can't help remembering the past: he can see in his mind another little girl, completely different from Tiny, but with the same light in her eyes, the same kindness and trust reflecting on her features. The pain those memories provoke in him fills him up for a moment, and he has to grind his teeth and push them out of his brain forcefully not to make it too aware. He knows Will would see, that he would ask: and he knows he can't answer.

 

Not yet. He's becoming far too aware of those eyes following him around, peeling back layers and layers of skin to flay him naked. He craves it, maybe: that sweet hint of pain that comes with understanding and longing.

 

Aleksandra claps excitedly when he's done, and he bows at her a little, but tries to only look at her in the eyes, avoiding Will for a moment.

 

“Did you like it? Was I good enough to make you forget all those loud noises that scared you?”

 

The child clings on his lap to hug him, resting against his shoulder and allowing Hannibal to hold her close, running his fingers through her hair.

 

“Yes, I liked it so, so, so very much! Daddy, daddy! Did you like it?”

 

Will smiles and gets closer to them: he allows his fingers to ghost against his arm for a second; Hannibal is aware of ever movement he makes, and finally a small smile opens on his lips, something almost seductive that it's only for Will to see.

 

“Yes, yes, of course. You were amazing, really.”

 

The man doesn't look away, but his cheeks become slightly heated again.

 

"Are you still afraid, Tiny?"

 

She takes a shaky, deep breath; they can all still hear the noises from the storm, the harsh winds, the pouring rain and the distant growl of thunders.

 

"A little. The noises are just too loud! I don't like them at all."

 

"I understand perfectly. The country where I come from is very cold and thunderstorms are very frequent there. I was scared as well as a child."

 

She looks at him with a great deal of attention and interest in her eyes.

 

"Really? Were you afraid too when you were little like me?"

 

He nods, kissing her small hand and making her smile.

 

"Of course; there is nothing be ashamed of. It's very common and normal."

 

He vaguely remembers the long nights he had to spend in the orphanage, the cold he felt back then and the absolute loneliness that surrounded him; Aleksandra is lucky never to have experienced any of this, a part of him wonders if he's not trying to experience some of that lost innocence through her.

 

If he's using her to try to heal his old wounds. Will interrupts his thoughts with his voice, holding Aleksandra's hand close to his heart.

 

“And you're not alone: you have me here, and Hannibal too, of course. We won't let anything bad happen to you.”

 

Tiny looks at her dad like she's not entirely sure she believes him.

 

“Do you promise?”

 

He smiles at her.

 

“I promise, Sharky. We're a team, you know that; we trust and take care of each other. And Hannibal will promise too, of course, right?”

 

They stare at each other for a second, and Hannibal is incredibly aware of the slippery slope he's walking on, of the weight that hovers on his promise: if he ever ended up letting Tiny down, all his efforts would be lost. Nothing would help him regain her trust.

 

He asks himself if Will is doing that on purpose to test him, to see how far he's willing to go in order to carve his place inside their family. It's a dangerous responsibility, and he smiles at Will's incredible cleverness and intelligence in handling both him and his relationship with Aleksandra.

 

He nods, in the end, and hope he's not making the worst mistake of his life.

 

“Of course; I promise that I will try to take care of you as good as I'll be able to."

 

Aleksandra seems to be convinced by their words: she takes a long and deep breath and finally relaxes completely, hugging him again and resting her head against his shoulders.

 

Will, on the other hand, lowers his eyes and looks away from him, almost embarrassed by the situation; maybe he's aware he pushed it too far, that he made it far too personal and intimate that he meant to.

 

Hannibal says nothing to him for now, but wonders if this will work to his advantage and how.

 

\-----

 

Later, Will finds him alone in the kitchen, where he's busy preparing some hot chocolate, the one way he had been able to find to convince Aleksandra to lie down a little on the couch and rest: the scent of cinnamon, cloves and cocoa is wonderful all around them. He pretends not to notice him for a few moments, giving him the chance to observe him in these surroundings in peace. The expression on his face is soft and pleased.

 

“I've never seen such a spotless kitchen in my life; you wouldn't even believe food is cooked in here, to be honest. It looks straight out of an Ikea catalog or something.”

 

“I greatly value hygiene and presentation; you should have guessed that by now.”

 

Will laughs and approaches him, watching him work for a while in perfect silence; Hannibal can't help a smile at the thought of him being so close to the evidences of his crimes, all stuffed away in the pantry a door away from where he's standing, but out of his reach, because he has no idea what to look for.

 

“It suits you, I think. I couldn't imagine this kitchen belonging to anyone else.”

 

"I am glad to hear that; I'll take it as a compliment."

 

He's not being intentionally laconic, but it seems to only fuel Will's sudden uneasiness more, because he catches him biting his lips and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He still comes closer anyway, hands sliding over the counter as he watches him stirring the pot carefully for few seconds, before speaking again.

 

"Sorry I cornered you like that earlier; I shouldn't have asked you to promise Aleksandra all that, I don't know what I was thinking. It was unfair of me: you have no responsibilities towards Tiny, that's only on me."

 

Hannibal rises his eyes to look at him and he's very pleased to see that Will doesn't look away despite his his nervousness and the haunted expression on his face. He's so strong, so full of life and intensity. He's beautiful and doesn't even realize it.

 

"Why did you ask me then?"

 

Will smiles a little guiltily.

 

"Honestly, I wanted to see what you were going to say. And that was horrible of me, I know: playing with your feelings and with Aleksandra's expectations... I shouldn't have done that. Sorry."

 

Hannibal cleans his hands on a towel, before approaching him even more, entering his personal space and getting close enough to be able to inhale his scent.

 

It's fascinating how Will incredible goodness can coexist with the darkness he keeps bottled in the dark crevices of his soul; he's a good man haunted by monsters and demons, and that constant fraction he has inside of him it's what makes him so amazingly attractive to his eyes.

 

Hannibal smiles at him.

 

"I wouldn't have made that promise if I didn't have all the intentions of keeping it. I want to take care of your daughter, as much as possible. I am honest when I say that."

 

The man takes a deep breath and his smile widens.

 

"Well, that's a relief, really. Thank you for saying that."

 

Neither of them moves away from the other, even though the conversation seems to be over: they keep staring, analyzing and weighting their reciprocal reactions, trying to read in their eyes what are they thinking about and what their next move is going to be.

 

I should kiss him how, Hannibal thinks, because the moment is perfect and they both open enough to that gesture and its consequences. It would take so little: one step forward, his hand reaching out to touch his cheek and the curl in his hair, pulling him close. His eyes are beautiful and crystalline, so deep and full of the same desire Hannibal is sure the man can read in his own as well.

 

The need he feels is incredibly strong, but the moment passes too soon for him to react or do anything: Will looks away, taking a deep breath that breaks the perfection of that instant. Hannibal can't avoid feeling disappointed.

 

"Then maybe you can start helping us right now: I doubt the weather is going to get any better, and I really don't feel like driving in this downpour..."

 

"If you're asking me if you and Aleksandra can stay here for the night, then the answer is absolutely yes; I could never, in good faith, allow you two to leave in these conditions. It would be a pleasure for me to have you as my guests for the night."

 

Will exhales loudly, and something in his posture relaxed and gives up the tension that was there before; in some moments, he manages to look so young, so different from the wounded man so oppressed by responsibilities and worries that inhabits his body usually. Hannibal wonders if that's how he was before all the terrible things that happened to him.

 

"Great, thank you so much; it's a relief, really. Now I have to go tell her, I'm not sure she'll be happy."

 

And Aleksandra really isn't very happy about it, in the end: she worries about the dogs, about leaving them on their own with a storm roaring outside their little house in the middle of nowhere, and it takes a lot of coaxing and promises that the animals she loves so much will be just fine to calm and convince her.

 

She clings to Hannibal and nuzzles against his neck, fighting back a few tears of worry and trying to smile at her father, to believe his words; and after long reassurances mixed with the excitement of having to spend the night in a new place, she relaxes a little.

 

She's already sleepy, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and in the end, she capitulates, almost falling asleep in his arms, while Will goes to retrieve the go-bag he brought with him from the garage.

 

"Hannibal, can you please tell me a story?"

 

“What kind of story would you like to hear? I am not sure I know many that would be suitable for a child like you...”

 

She shrugs.

 

“I don't know; something nice, please? Daddy always tells me a lot of stories.”

 

Hannibal adjusts her in his lap, kissing the top of her head very gently; he sighs and tries to bring to mind all the book he read, the distant memories of his long lost childhood and the feelings it generated in him.

 

“Your father is far better than me at this, it seems. But I will try my best. Once upon a time, there were two siblings, a boy and a girl, who lived very close to a deep and mysterious forest; their parents had gone away and their village was very far away from their home. They were alone, but were happy regardless.”

 

He closes his eyes for a moment; he can hear Aleksandra's soft breathing against his neck, but the tension in her little body tells him she was awake and listening attentively to him. He catches Will entering the room out of the corner of his eye, but the man stays where he is, without disturbing them.

 

“One day, the little girl decided to see what was beyond the great forest; everybody else had been too scared to ever try that, because the few who had attempted the journey had never returned from it. The boy waited for her to come back, days passed, then months, and after a whole year there had been no sight of his sister. The villagers told him she was probably dead, devoured by a wild beast or killed in an accident; but he did not believe that. He could feel in his heart that she was alive: so he packed his things, very carefully, and entered the dark forest as well.”

 

Hannibal takes a deep breath; he glances over to Will, who's staring at them with a very serious expression on his face and something troubled and sad in his eyes. He wonders how much of his current feelings he's picking up right now, if he can feel the same as him. Will is the one who looks away first, and it's like he's almost ashamed of being there, intruding in a private moment between him and Tiny.

 

“What happened next? Did he find his sister? Was she okay?”

 

He smiles at Aleksandra, caressing her cheek.

 

“Yes, he did. He realized there were no monsters in the forest, no secret dangers: it was only very, very wide and hard to cross. He met with his sister halfway through it, and they decided to go live on the other side of the woods, far away from the simple minded and naïve villagers. And they were happy there for many, many years.”

 

Aleksandra looks relieved and relaxes in his arms, hugging him with her eyes closed: he knows she is picturing what he just narrated in her mind, because she's just like her father, blessed and at the same cursed with a beautiful imagination, that makes her so sensitive, but also exposed to so much pain.

 

Will approaches them and takes her from him, and Hannibal feels the loss of the contact with her; but he says nothing.

 

“That was a nice story, wasn't it, Sharky?”

 

“Yes, it was. I liked it so much, Hannibal. Even though it was a little sad and scary; thank you for telling me.”

 

She yaws: it way past her bed time and they both can see she's exhausted.

 

“Time for bed, Sharky. Before you fall asleep around.”

 

Aleksandra nods, and keeps waving at Hannibal while Will takes her away, towards the guest bathroom he showed to him earlier.

 

He's left alone for a while: alone with his thoughts at feelings.

 

Hannibal closes his eyes for a long moment, slipping inside his memory palace.

 

He caresses the images he finds there like they are solid under his fingers and if he, touching them, could make them come to life once again. He wishes the story he told Aleksandra could become true, that he could change the truth he locked inside his head and replace it with a fairytale.

 

Hannibal reaches out in the darkest room of his mind, and the shadows of a past that never leave him, even when he's able to silence it, surround him and threaten to strangle him with their oppressive weight around his neck like skeletal fingers.

 

He's not sure why he's doing it, or what he hopes to find there: but he's already too far under when these thoughts cross his mind.

 

It lasts only for a moment, before his brain refuses to allow him to suffer so much pain and wakes him up from the disturbing trance state he was in: he can still see a little girl dead in the snow behind his eyelids, like an echo.

 

Hannibal has to breathe deeply a few times to calm his heartbeat. The world spins around him for a moment.

 

When he feels sure enough of his balance he gets up and goes to wait for Will in the drawing room.

 

\-----

 

His unpleasant and unexpected experience is almost entirely forgotten, and he's deep inside an old book, by the time Will reappears, sitting unceremoniously on the couch next to him; he looks tired, as surely he does as well, but weariness somehow mixed with the dim light of the fireplace makes him appear almost glowing and even more beautiful.

 

Hannibal smiles at him.

 

"Is she finally asleep?"

 

"Yeah, thank God. She was exhausted, but still insisted on another story and then another. She fell asleep during the second one, but I stayed with her a while longer. Sorry I kept you up, you didn't have to wait for me."

 

"You did nothing to force me to do anything, I wanted to wait you. Do you intend to retire right away or can I tempt you with a drink? I was about to have one on my own anyway."

 

Will grins at him and abandons himself against the pillow behind his back.

 

"Make it two drinks and we have a deal."

 

He watches Will drink in silence for a while, with only the crackling of the fire and the soft classical music in the background as soundtrack of the moment.

 

Hannibal licks his lips and tries to imagine how his expensive liquor would taste in Will's mouth.

 

Will sighs, putting his glass on the table after emptying it: Hannibal follows every movement in silence, waiting for him to make the first move, and feeling his own skin itch with expectation and desire to see what Will happen.

 

They are alone, without Aleksandra's presence between them to mediate and light up the tension: there is no way to work their way out of a confrontation that has been building up under their skin and growing together with their relationship and his relationship with Aleksandra.

 

He smiles at him; Will closes his eyes for a second.

 

“I think we need to talk.”

 

Hannibal doesn't even bother trying to feign surprise: he nods absently and settles his own glass next to Will's, turning to face him.

 

“About?”

 

Will laughs softly, but still tries to avoid directly looking into his eyes.

 

“What are we doing here? Us? About how my daughter is completely enamored with you and how you became such an important presence in her life that losing it would break her heart? I think there's a lot we need to address, don't you?”

 

He says nothing right away, waits to see if Will wishes to add more to his words, but the man remains silent; and Hannibal uses the pause to let his mind wander away. So much happened since that morning, when a bewildered Will, mad with love for his daughter and ready to shout at anyone who threatened his little girl, crossed his path.

 

Now they're so close they could touch; there's a desperate desire for more, for a contact and intimacy that possibly neither of them ever thought possible: Will doesn't trust people, he doesn't let people close, and truth is he doesn't either because he can't afford it, because he has too much to loose and to hide and one missteps could destroy him.

 

But the feeling never goes away and all he can think about is how much he wants Will and Aleksandra into his life, how much he wants to be into theirs at all times: he wants to be seen, to be accepted. It's something he has never wanted before, and the realization that he craves it, freezes him to his bones as much as it excites him.

 

He licks his lips, and moves a little closer to Will, who doesn't try to escape their closeness. Hannibal can smell Tiny on him, the food he ate, faint traces of sweat and the overwhelming stench of cheap cologne, all mixed together with his natural scent that makes him feel famished.

 

"I was not aware there was an 'us' until now. What does 'us' mean for you?"

 

There's a flickering second when Will's eyes dilate, pupils almost blown black by the intensity of what he's feeling: Hannibal is almost afraid he let the mask slip too low, that he exposed too much to Will's eyes. The tension in his body is all towards him, and he never breaks eye contact, not even when he swallows loudly and finally exhales after holding his breath for a moment.

 

It's erotic, like Will is stripping him of his clothes and skin, running his hands all over his naked body.

 

Will smiles, in the end: he quietly breathes in and out a couple of times, never looking away from him.

 

"It means that I let you in, into my life: that I trust you with my daughter, that I believe you when you say that you want to take care of her; it's a lot to handle, because she's the most important thing that exists for me and hope this decision doesn't come back to bite me in the ass. I put myself in front of you and open the door that separates us. I don't know what you'll bring in with you, but I'm willing to find out."

 

Hannibal reaches out to touch Will's cheek lightly, delighted when he doesn't move away, and he feels the same electricity that ran through him that day he kisses his neck and crossed another line between them.

 

Will's beard is patchy and coarse under his palm, but his skin is soft and warm and his eyes are of the most beautiful shade of blue. He imprints the scene into his mind, recording it as perfectly as he can manage: Will look like a baroque painting, with chiaroscuro dancing on his features and giving new depths to his beauty.

 

"Perhaps you're putting too much trust in me; you're basing your decision on glimpses and fragments. But after all, so am I: I don't know if the man I see, it's who you truly are, if I can believe it; and you have no idea what lies behind the dark corners I hide. We are on a very uneven and dangerous territory."

 

Will laughs and the vibration is delicious against his skin. But then he becomes serious again, his eyes sharp and piercing through him like razors, making him bleed.

 

"Oh, I know man like you, Hannibal Lecter: I hunt them down for a living. I slip inside their heads, I find them, I stop them. You hide so much pain and rage and darkness in you: you're like a time bomb, waiting for the right moment to explode and destroy everything around you. You hide constantly, because you can't show that to anyone; they wouldn't understand, how could they? But I see you; not all of you, you don't allow me to yet, but I still do. And I believe you know that, and that's why you want me so much and so desperately. Because I see you while everybody else doesn't."

 

"Then if you believe I am so dangerous, why do you allow me to get so close to you, to your daughter, to that part of your life you're so desperate to preserve and protect from the ugliness of the world, from the monster you hunt? If I am one of them, why are you putting your trust in me?"

 

His voice sounds strained, weighted down by the heavy atmosphere that surrounds them. Will puts his hands on his shoulders, pulls himself forward until he's almost sitting on his lap, caressing the side of his neck and smiling softly at him.

 

Hannibal feels like he's stranded at sea, alone and surrounded by a desolate emptiness, with nothing to sustain and ground him.

 

"I see enough of you to see the truth of you; and I like what I see. So does Aleksandra: and I trust her judgment way more than I trust mine. I think she understands you a lot better than I do. You're not a monster, Hannibal: I'm not sure you're a good man, but you're not a monster either."

 

And that's when Hannibal pulls him closer and finally kisses him, pressing their lips together and surrounding Will with his arms, holding him so hard the man moans in response, struggling to find a way to reciprocate.

 

Everything becomes incredibly quiet around them in the space of a second, like he suddenly went deaf and can only rely on his other senses to understand the world around him: Will kisses him back, fingers pulling at his hair, while Hannibal tries to push him down to make him lie on the couch. But he resists, pushes back just has hard, scratching the back of his neck until Hannibal breaks the kiss.

 

He's panting against Will's parted lips, allowing his tongue to dart forward and lick his chin, the corners of his mouth, while Will throws his head back and laughs, clinging to him and burying his face against the crook of his neck.

 

"That took you long enough..."

 

Hannibal stops abruptly and opens his eyes to look at him, a sudden realization filling him all at once; he feels like he has been played all along and completely failed to realize it: Will thought about this, over and over just like he did. Weeks passed dancing around each other, observing their respective moves, flirting more and more openly...

 

All to come to this: to Will trapped between his body and the couch, smiling, caressing his face with an affection he never thought he could receive from a man like him, and pulling him down for another kiss.

 

It's slower this time: Hannibal takes his time to taste his mouth, to memories the shape of his lips, the way he kisses, the feeling of the stubble scratching against his skin; Will is glowing brightly like a star behind his closed eyelids, and he wants to bite down, to maul his flesh and at the same time, to preserve him as perfect as he is now.

 

"Did you plan for this to happen tonight or was it just wishful thinking?"

 

Will grins at him, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath: Hannibal moves away from him a little, not quite letting him go, but giving him room to breathe. Their position is uncomfortable, they both know they can't go very much further tonight, but at the same time, they both feel bolder than they ever did before and it's almost exhilarating.

 

"I was hoping something could happen, but no, I didn't plan this. I have been attracted to you for a while... And that hasn't happened to me in years. I'm not sure how to do any of this; waiting and hoping for the best seemed the safest option."

 

Hannibal smiles indulgent, caressing his face, then allows their lips to meet again, softly sucking on Will's bottom lip until the man moans again and clings sharply to his shoulders, as if he's suddenly not sure he could sustain himself without him there to hold him together.

 

It's a rush of adrenaline that makes him bold and almost reckless.

 

His hand ghosts against his neck, applying the faintest pressure he can manage: Will's eyes snap open, staring at him with confusion mixed arousal in his expression. Neither of them move for a while, until Will licks his lips and smiles.

 

"Are you trying to scare me?"

 

"Perhaps you need to be scared, to be aware of who you're letting in."

 

He says nothing, remaining relaxed and pliant under him: Hannibal nuzzles against his neck, placing soft, tentative kisses there. Will keeps his eyes closed.

 

He'd give everything to know what he's thinking about, what's moving inside his beautiful mind: he's so self aware and perceptive, so good at sensing the danger he could possibly be in, but brave and strong enough to push forward anyway.

 

Will is like a fly, dancing close to the spiderweb that could be the end of him, but never afraid of it.

 

"I'm not scared of you."

 

"Why?"

 

"I... I'm not sure. But I'm not. Maybe it's because Aleksandra isn't afraid to be around you, to trust you with her life and her secrets. She sees you as well, and apparently likes you a lot: and like I said, I trust her judgment and I hope she's right."

 

Hannibal nods.

 

"It is a lot of pressure you are putting on me... Meeting yours and Aleksandra's standards will not be easy.

 

Will kisses him lightly once again.

 

"I think you can handle it."

 

Hannibal smiles, without exposing his teeth.

 

"It's going to be very hard to define what is happening between us; it'll take time even just to give it a name. And tonight, I think enough happened already."

 

Will nods, stretching up when Hannibal allows him to sit normally again; he looks at the time and groans, passing a hand on his eyes: he looks positively drained now, but still with a glow in his cheeks. Hannibal wishes he could push him even further, but of course, doesn't.

 

"Yeah, and I need to be there in case Aleksandra wakes up; she can get scared easily."

 

They don't touch again for a while; Hannibal gets up and rearranges himself into the mask of the perfect host one more time, even though his mind is still filled with images of Will's body and his mouth full with the taste of him.

 

"I will be in my room in case you need anything; you know where to find me."

 

Will flushes lightly, but doesn't stop smiling: he caresses his shoulders lightly, like he wishes they could go even further and holding back is painful for him. He wonders how many years he went on without being touched like this by anyone, if he missed it and if now he is overwhelmed by the attraction between them.

 

Hannibal kisses him one last time; then watches him leave the room until he disappears from his sight.

 

Silence surrounds him again, and Hannibal closes his eyes for a long moment to internalize the events of the night: memories flood his brain, neatly collecting in his palace, where he'll be able to revive them over and over. He still feels Will's skin under his fingers, the heat of his lips and his scent.

 

Carefully, he extinguishes the fireplace, watching the flames slowly die out, leaving behind only ashes.

 

He turns off every light, checks every door, following his usual routine. The house is calm, quiet and dark. He's satisfied.

 

For one moment only, he stops in front of the room where Aleksandra and Will are sleeping: he doesn't open the door, not wanting to disturb their intimacy and privacy in their most defenseless moment.

 

Once safely in his bedroom, he changes into his night clothes, and sits on the bed with a sketch book in his hands.

 

The pencil flows quickly on the page, as Will's features as he saw them during their kiss appears on the paper.

 

Hannibal smiles.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... mmh... Hi? We're back? I know, I know... you all thought I had forgot about this story, but I haven't. Life just happened, a lot happened. I'm truly sorry.
> 
> I hope there's still someone looking forward to this fic and this update. In that case, HI! IT'S HAPPENING!!
> 
> I hope you all will like this chapter and will be happy to see this story continued; I plan on trying to update it weekly and hopefully I can make it work. Let's hope so!
> 
> Leave me comments, thoughts, feelings... anything, really!  
> I love you all.
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr at arabellestrange.

Truth be told, Hannibal wakes up the second he hears the door open, despite the thick layers of sleep that are still wrapped around him: over the years he trained his body to be always aware of any possible change in his surroundings, to catch any unusual sound, any different smell, anything out of the ordinary that could alert him of a possible threat to himself and to his house.

 

He cannot allow himself any moment of weakness or of distraction after all, not with all he has to hide; he knows that very well.

 

And that is why he immediately tenses, but forces himself not to move: he stays still while his mind conjures plans to defend himself from the possible enemy he might have to face; but then memory catches up with the rest of him, and he remembers his guests.

 

Will and Aleksandra are in his house, and one of them just entered his bedroom: Hannibal relaxes, but still decides to wait and see what they will do and, most importantly, who he's going to deal with. It takes only one deep sniff of the air around him to identify the intruder as Aleksandra.

 

The child's light steps are muffled by the carpet on the floor and by the thick wool socks she's wearing; he can tell she's barefoot and that she just woke up, because he can still smell sleepiness on her, with faint traces of sweat clinging to her skin. He also catches a whiff of her father's cheap cologne and the thought of them sleeping so close together makes him smile.

 

Tiny stops in front of him, probably staring at him with a light frown on her face while she decides what the best course of action might be: he can picture her solemn expression so clearly in his mind; her clever eyes alight with curiosity and determination, but also with a shadow of uncertainty. He wonders if Will is still asleep, and what prompted Aleksandra to venture on her own in this foreign house to go find him, instead of awakening her father.

 

Very lightly, like she's almost afraid she might break him if she pressed too hard, Tiny pokes his cheek to wake him up, and does it again when he doesn't move: she waits for him to react in silence for a few minutes, and Hannibal can imagine her swinging back and forth on her short legs, probably holding her stuffed shark close to her chest, the perfect picture of innocence.

 

He wishes he could open his eyes and see what she truly looks like now, but decides to still wait to see what she will do next.

 

And his patience is rewarded in the end.

 

The little girl sighs deeply, before starting to climb on the bed, with some difficulty, but at last managing to sit on top of him, where he'll not be able to ignore her presence anymore. She shakes him one last time for good measure, settling her shark in front of her like a shield, as he opens his eyes and yaws.

 

Her face lights up, with a beautiful smile that warms even his heart, when she sees she has succeeded. Hannibal reciprocates the smile, takes a deep breath and massages his own eyes to chase away the last shreds of sleep from them, before turning his attention entirely on her.

 

"Hello, Aleksandra."

 

The child, after a moment of hesitation, waves at him shyly, half hiding her small face against her toy.

 

“Hello. Good morning.”

 

She corrects herself quickly, as if the memory of the manners her father surely has taught her just rushed back into her head. He smiles.

 

“Good morning to you. What are you doing up so early? Where is your dad?”

 

Hannibal observes her as she sighs heavily: her blue eyes shine even in the half darkness that surrounds them, and he watches her pout and shrug before she finally decides to reply. He can tell she's still tired from the way she rubs her eyes and yawns from time to time, her hair still messy and her head resting on her shark to support herself.

 

“Daddy is still in bed! But I woke up, I don't know why: I was scared for a moment, because I didn't know where I was, but then I remembered that this is your house! But I couldn't go back sleep again, I tried, but I just couldn't.”

 

He nods patiently, as he sits up a little bit so he can look at her better: he puts his hands on her shoulders and then rubs her back a little when he sees her shivering; the room can be quite chilly so early, before he has the chance to turn on the heat. He doesn't mind, actually enjoys the cold: it helps him wake up more easily, and after all, he grew up in far worse conditions.

 

But Aleksandra is far more delicate than he is, so he resolves all his attentions to her, to analyze her discomfort and the attitude she's displaying towards him.

 

“So you decided to get up and woke up me instead of your father?”

 

Aleksandra seems to realize her actions fully just in that precise moment: her small mouth falls open, and Hannibal can see a sudden blush creep on her cheeks. She becomes a little fidgety, like her father when he's nervous or feels cornered. Once again, he's surprised by how alike they are: Will and his daughter share way more than it could appear at first sight.

 

Hannibal can only imagine their relationship growing together with Tiny, from when she was only a baby to this day: he wishes he could dissect Will's memories of those days, that he could see inside of both of them to analyze every second of all those years, to see what unexpected treasures might lie there, hidden from his watchful and ravenous eyes.

 

He keeps rubbing her back to calm her down, and when he smiles, she relaxes a little.

 

The fabric of her pajamas is soft under his fingers, and a thought reaches his mind, slithering subtly through it: Will never looks ashamed of his cheap clothes, of the poor white trash feeling attached to his whole person that he takes with him. But Aleksandra is always perfectly groomed, wears clothes that look far more expensive than those her father chooses for himself: Hannibal smiles to himself, because he can imagine the man putting all his efforts into giving his child all he could never have.

 

Tiny sighs heavily.

 

“I'm sorry I woke you up, Hannibal, but I was bored! I didn't want to stay in bed! But... daddy was sleeping so well, and sometimes he has very bad dreams and can't.”

 

“So you didn't want to disturb him?”

 

She nods, and Hannibal caresses her soft curls, making her giggle a little: usually she's wary of people trying to touch her, and she's quick to shy away from any kind of contact, hiding behind her father or putting herself out of reach. But she's becoming used to his attentions very fast, like something about his discreet display of affection makes him nonthreatening to her.

 

He realizes how innocent she must be to trust a man like him.

 

“It's okay; I understand why you did it, and I am not upset. Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yes, thank you! The bed was really soft! Your house is so nice, Hannibal. I think the doggies would like it here too.”

 

Hannibal smiles politely at her, though he can't help shuddering inside at the thought of Will's pack of dogs running freely through his rooms: he doesn't mind them when they are in Wolf Trap, they're a part of Aleksandra and Will's family, and he must accept them as such if he wants to hope to be allowed in as well. And he's quite fond of animals himself, even though he never desired to own a pet: but, of course, he has his limits.

 

He stares at her as she giggles in his arms, content with her privileged position and happy to have his undivided attention: Hannibal realizes how much the girl likes him, how deeply she's starting to trust him and abandon every remaining shred of shyness. She's just a child, and yet she managed to see through him to find soft spots he forgot he had, hints of kindness that usually belong only to his person suit, to the mask he wears every day.

 

But with her, they are genuine: he likes her, he truly does. He doesn't have to fake his affection, because it all comes naturally.

 

Aleksandra reminds him of somebody from his past, of a ghost he could never bring himself to face and that still holds significant power over him. He sees her sometimes in the curve of her smile, in the peculiar way Tiny looks at him and seeks out his attentions.

 

And yet, she's nothing like the little girl from his dreams or nightmares: Tiny is as quiet, calm, melancholic and shy as she was loud, demanding and expansive. He can separate the two images and allow his relationship with the little girl to grow and evolve without that shadow hanging over it.

 

“I hope you had sweet dreams.”

 

She thinks on his questions for a few minutes, hugging her stuffed animal tightly to her chest and swinging back a forth a little on top of him: she's so light and small he can barely feel her weight, but her warmth and presence are pleasant. He turns on the light on the bedside finally, and she blinks a couple of time in surprise.

 

Now he can see her face caught up in that usual solemn expression that never fails to impress him, because she might be only a child, but she already has a rich and dynamic inner world. And it reflects on her features beautifully, as much as it does on her father's.

 

“I don't remember...”

 

“That is just fine: many people cannot remember their dreams. Does your father have nightmares often.”

 

Aleksandra hesitates to answer: maybe she doesn't want to share such intimate and personal details of her father's life, because she's fiercely protective of him, of his happiness. He remember how her voice sounded when she asked him to be good to Will.

 

Hannibal thinks about him still asleep in the other room, peaceful and unaware of the world around him: he's sure he must be beautiful like that, with a veil of pure bliss and abandonment covering him, lost in a more innocent and kinder world. He wants to eat up that sight, but not now: now his focus is Tiny.

 

“Sometimes: when he goes to work to catch bad people. He says that when you see very scary things, they can stay in your head for a while and give you bad dreams. I try to hug him and tell him I love him very much, so he won't think about those things anymore.”

 

Will Graham does strike him as a man plagued by night terrors and by a constant weariness that comes from sleeping just about enough to go by: he must not be someone who enjoys putting his head down to rest, because he has no idea what could appear behind his closed eyes.

 

He understands that feeling.

 

“You are a very dedicated daughter indeed.”

 

Tiny reflects on his words for a moment, her mind still clouded by sleep, but the she smiles and hides her blush behind her hands: but then she shivers again, and he suddenly becomes aware of how cold her cheeks and hands are.

 

“Are you cold? Would you like to lie down under the covers and warm up a little bit while I go get your father?”

 

She seems a little disappointed by the idea of waking up Will, both because she wants him to rest a while more, and because she probably knows he wouldn't entirely approve of her bothering Hannibal like this.

 

“Do we really have to wake up daddy?”

 

Hannibal nods solemnly.

 

“Yes, I am afraid we must. You need to put some warmer clothes on, first of all, and then you and your dad must organize the rest of you day. But we can wait a moment more, all right?”

 

The girl falls silent for a moment and takes a deep breath, but he knows he has convinced her when she nods back at him and then smiles brightly, getting off of him to go straight to hide under the heavy duvet, with only her little head and part of her toy being still in sight.

 

Aleksandra makes herself comfortable, grinning up to him and humming some incomprehensible melody under her breath, probably a lullaby her father used to sing for her. Hannibal sits up, with his back against the headboard, looking down at the child: he's amazed by how carefree and relaxed she looks. He sees innocence and youth reflected in her features, and envies her, for the happiness she was given and that he never experienced.

 

She's a little restless at first, twisting and turning under the sheets, struggling to find a good position in his big bed, but calms down when he gently helps her lying better on the pillows.

 

“Are you comfortable enough?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Hannibal thinks once again about the kiss he and Will shared the evening before: it still burns fresh and vivid on his lips and in his mind, opening a smile on his face and making him aware that this might be the beginning of something completely new for him, an unexpected and surprising chapter of his life.

 

He caresses all the possibilities that are opening up in front of him with the tips of his fingers: he sees Will and Aleksandra welcoming him inside their family, as if they were only waiting for him to appear in their lives. The image floods him with an unexpected desire to give in, to allow himself to be transported inside a world that's as far away from his current one as they come.

 

There is danger is lowering his guard as much as he's doing, in listening to his desires and needs more than to his brain, that tries to warn him, to keep him woke and aware. But sometimes, he doesn't want to listen.

 

He closes his eyes for a moment and reflects on the still unsolvable mystery that is for him Will Graham: a man with such a beautiful, glorious brain, with fire and darkness running through his veins, but who tamed his monsters to become the father he is now. When his eyes are pointed right at him, thought, Hannibal knows he recognizes the same secrets he hides inside of him, only not consciously yet perhaps. He's a fascinating and complex mechanism he wants, at the same time, tear apart and keep safe forever. He wonders what Will truly wants from him, why he keeps him around.

 

The time to ask all this will surely come. And Hannibal is already savoring it.

 

He returns his attention to Aleksandra, who's rubbing her eyes and yawning, her curls splayed on his pillow like a beautiful, dark halo. She is a mystery too, in her own way: Hannibal sees Will in her eyes, in her bright, but melancholic smiles, in the way she relates to the world; but he knows she's not only Will's daughter and can't help asking himself what her other father passed on to her.

 

He wonder who he is, where he is: what he would do if he came back into their lives. The possibility brings a smile to his lips; then he gently caresses Tiny's soft, smooth hair.

 

“Do you like being here in my house, Tiny?”

 

The girl peeks up from under the covers and smiles, nodding and getting a little bit closer to him so she can hold his hand: Hannibal gently touches her fingers and her palm, watching as giggle at little.

 

“Yes, a lot! You have so many rooms, so many books! So much to explore! I was a little scared at first, because it's so big and I was afraid I would get lost and not find you and daddy anymore; but it's okay now. I know I don't have to be scared of that, because daddy will always find me. And you will too, right?”

 

“Of course; I would never leave you lost somewhere: I would come and get you wherever you were.”

 

She nods, solemnly, as if his words just confirmed a truth she was already aware of. Her cleverness shines through, but he realizes how deeply intertwined it is with her innocence and goodness: she sees the best in the people around her, in him in particular. Sometimes he's not sure what to make of that.

 

“So, it would be okay for you to come here a little more often from now on?”

 

Aleksandra blinks a couple of times, slightly confused by his words.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Your father and I might spend more time together in the near future, and of course you would be with us as well. Do you like the idea?”

 

Hannibal knows he's taking a risk, that Will should be having this conversation with her and that he's overstepping: it could backfire and hurt him more than benefit him. However, he's too curious to stop himself: he wants to listen to what she's going to say now that they're alone and her father is not there to influence her reactions.

 

Aleksandra takes a deep breath, and then nods, a smile opening up on her face as she shrugs.

 

“I guess. I like when you're with me and daddy, because you make daddy laugh and I'm happy when he's happy! And I like you too, even when you're a little funny and weird. Can we bring the doggies with us sometimes? We can walk them, and go to the park!”

 

He coughs nervously, but nods awkwardly at her enthusiasm: in that moment, he'd agree to anything, even to welcome a pack of seven stray dogs in his home. But the conversation reassures him, sets his eyes once again on the prize he's pursuing: the special place he thinks he deserves in their family, and that he's determined to obtain at all costs.

 

He knows Will looks at him so favorably especially because of his connection with Tiny: the physical attraction and their very personal brand of closeness came later and through that channel.

 

“Hannibal? Do you like my daddy very, very much?”

 

Her words are soft spoken, whispered to the half darkness that surrounds them and muffled into the fabric of her stuffed animal: in her eyes, there's hope, love for her father, and a new affection towards him he only wants to encourage more and more. He takes a deep breath: he considers what he should tell her, how he should phrase his feelings to get through to her; because she's only a child, and he must remember it.

 

He decides that, for once, the truth is the best choice for him.

 

“I do, Tiny. You and your father are starting to become very important to me; and I do hope you will come to consider me important as well, in time. How does that make you feel?”

 

Aleksandra shifts on the bed a little again, while she thinks about his words with a serious expression on her face. She's still holding his hand, that subtle warmth keeping them linked and close to one another.

 

“I think daddy likes you a lot too: and that you are important for him. But don't tell him I said that! It's a secret!”

 

He nods, making the motion of sealing his lips to further convince her that he'll keep this conversation between themselves, and the child relaxes, blushing a little.

 

Hannibal smiles to himself, but is distracted when Aleksandra yawns again.

 

“Are you still a little sleepy?”

 

The little girl stubbornly shakes her head.

 

“No! I'm okay!”

 

He smiles at her determination: he can see so much of Will in her in these moments. He can be callous and unmovable, subtly mean with his comments: this translates into Aleksandra in her strong personality and in her independence.

 

“Well, nevertheless, you could close your eyes and rest some more while I go wake up your father. Will you be okay on your own?”

 

Tiny rolls her eyes a little, clinging to her toy as she rubs her eyes.

 

“I'm not a baby, I'm not scared!”

 

He nods; then before getting up he gently kisses her forehead, eating up the sight of her blushing and giggling at his display of affections.

 

Hannibal leaves her safely tucked away in bed, with a light of the bedside and the armor watching over her from its corner: he stops in front of it for a second, touching the cold metal with just a hint of a finger.

 

He can sense Aleksandra's eyes on him, following his movements with a curious look on her face: he smiles to her and her giggles follow him out of the room.

 

Then he goes to find Will.

 

\-----

 

He has imagined Will asleep many times since their first meeting in his office: he's a man with monsters in his mind, waiting for him to close his eyes to attack him and swallow him whole: picturing him at such a delicate time comes natural for him, someone who relishes in admiring the darkest parts of the people around him.

Does he jerks awake nearly every night covered in sweat and fear? Does he scream or has trained himself to keep quiet for the sake of his daughter? Do nightmares follow him around even during the rest of his day or do they abandon him the second he lies eyes on Aleksandra?

Hannibal closes his eyes a takes a deep breath when he reaches the guest room where Will is still resting, and takes a moment to collect himself: he's intrigued by the many shapes and shades of Will's brain, by how it works, how it copes with the horror he has to witness.

When he's allowed to be close enough to him to inhale his scent, Hannibal is always seduced by it, by that mixture of bravery and fear, blended all together with the physical scents of his life. Aleksandra's is there too, prominent and strong, the most radiant part of it: she's everywhere for him.

That's what reaches his nostrils when he opens the door, slowly, not to wake him up just yet: Will sleeps on his side, curled up together like he's trying to shield himself from the world outside, and not only himself, but his daughter too. Even though she's not there anymore, he's not aware of it yet and his body keeps holding her imaginary form.

They must be a beautiful sigh together, wrapped around each other: Aleksandra's small built pressed against Will's chest. An endeared smile reaches his lips.

Hannibal inhales the air deeply, memorizes how Will looks, what kind of taste he leaves in the back of his mouth, what does he smell like when he's deep in his dreams and oblivious to the rest of the world. He looks at peace, breathing steadily and calmly, his features relaxed: he's beautiful, like an angel painted by an old Italian master, with rich brown curls spread on the pillow like his daughter's were.

And yet, there's also so much strength in him, in the line of his muscles he can see hinted under the t-shirt he's wearing, in the way he's able to handle so much pressure without breaking: he's a warrior at heart, someone used to fight and never to give up. Hannibal can imagine him fighting darkness, slaying dragons and bringing down evil, like a medieval warrior wrapped in a shiny armor.

It's an image that makes him smile, but that also makes him aware of the threat he represents to his life: Will is so perceptive, so incredibly smart, and it's only a matter of time before he manages to see through the veils of his person suit. He wonders what will happen that day. But this is something he can worry about at another and more suitable time.

It's a pity that now he'll have to ruin this moment and painfully interrupt his rest: but he smiles at the thought nevertheless; very slowly and gently, he start shaking Will, until he groans softly and starts to wake up, turning around towards him and blinking a couple of times until he finally becomes aware of his surroundings.

“Hello, Will.”

Will groans again and yawns widely, struggling to sit up while rubbing his eyes: for a moment, they just stare at each other without saying anything, while the other man finally manages to shrug away the last residues of sleep from his mind and fully grasps the situation.

He looks around the bed and a mild panicked expression appears on his face when he realizes his daughter is not there with him.

“Tiny?!”

Hannibal places one of his hands on his shoulder, and is rewarded by the fact that Will doesn't jerk away from the touch, but focuses his attention on him, despite his worry.

“Do not worry about Aleksandra: she's in my bedroom. Apparently, she woke up fairly early for her standards, but decided not to disturb your sleep and came to look for me instead. Please, do not be upset with her.”

Will blinks a few times as he registers his words, and in the end he lets out a sigh of relief and finally relaxes a little, putting his back against the headboard while Hannibal sits on the bed next to him, so close he can feel him move under the covers: he looks beautiful like this, messy and uncombed, with sleep, sweat and fatigue still clinging to his skin. He wishes he could lick it all off of him and see what it tastes like, but for now he can just observe.

“God, I'm so sorry she bothered you! I don't even know why she did that! But... thank you for taking care of her anyway...”

“It was not a chore. And she did not bother me: Aleksandra is a very peculiar child, one that worries very much about her father.”

Will nods awkwardly, scratching his cheek and turning on the light of the bedside so he can see Hannibal more clearly. He doesn't seem to be embarrassed by the situation, despite the fact that they're both still in their pajamas and talking while in bed together: how deep the familiarity between them is already is astonishing and he can't help smiling.

“Yeah, sometimes she worries way too much.”

Hannibal takes a deep breath: he takes his time to bask in the sigh of Will, to admire and drink in every side of him, every new detail he can discover. If the man notices his scrutiny, he gives no sign of it, but allows him whatever he wants in perfect silence.

“I trust you slept well here?”

Will laughs.

“I did, I did: best night of sleep I had in a while actually!”

“I am glad to hear that.”

The man sighs and then finally focuses on him, on how close they are, and keeps smiling with a relaxed and beautiful color in his cheeks that makes him wish he could devour him whole so he could keep this beautiful image inside of himself forever. He sighs after a while, closing his eyes, like he's trying to immerse himself completely in the silence that surrounds them.

Hannibal watches him almost transfigure before his eyes, modify himself and his mind setting to be more receptive to him and the feelings coming from him. He's beautiful, he thinks as he imagines how incredible it would be to kiss every inch of skin on his body and tear him apart at the same time.

“What about you? Have you slept well?”

“Like a child. I never have troubles finding my rest, but tonight it came exceptionally easily to me to fall asleep. Perhaps your presence in my house was extremely soothing.”

Will laughs again.

“You've such a way with words: you're so good at charming others with them, at lulling them into a complete sense of security. I'm so jealous of that!”

Hannibal grins at him, daring to put a hand on his knee, to which Will react with a subtly sensual smile spreading on his face. The contact reverberates between them, but by now Will is used to be touched by him enough not to move away from it.

“Do I? I must do it without realizing it...”

Will snorts loudly.

“Fine, fine. Keep being like that if you want! But eventually we should see how useful that ability is to discuss what happened between us last night...”

Hannibal raises one of his eyebrows, but otherwise remains silent, because he's curious to hear what Will is going to say, how he's going to break the subject between them.

The man sighs, closing his eyes and massaging them for a long moment, before looking at him again: not directly though, but through the shadows created by his curls half covering his face. He looks positively delicious like this, while a flush rises to his cheeks. Both Will and his daughter blush the same way.

“I've not been... I mean, it's been a while since I last had someone in my life: I don't know how to flirt or court or seduce anymore, not consciously at least; and I was never good at it in the first place. And I'm not sure what I'm doing with you. There's no much to understand, so much I still can't see clearly...”

“And you have Aleksandra to think about.”

Will frowns for a moment, before sighing again. Hannibal doesn't stop touching him during that time, keeps his hand firmly on him more for his own sake than to control Will himself.

“Well, that goes without saying.”

Hannibal observes him as Will scratches his head and averts his eyes from him, like he's suddenly ashamed of his confessions: this is a turning point for them, and he has to play all his cards in the best way, or he'll risk too much. Be too eager and you'll lose him; appear too detached and he'll clamp up and shut you out once again.

So he puts on his best smile, the most understanding and genuine he has: it's not too hard, because it comes surprisingly natural when its directed to Will or Tiny. They inspire true emotions in him, force him to confront those parts of himself that are never completely covered by his mask.

They make him want to be honest, so he just gives in to that desire.

“I don't plan to force you to do anything, Will. If you want to stop this... liaison between us before it has the chance to develop any further, just say so and I will understand. And if you don't, but want to progress as slowly as possible, then that is also fine by me. More than fine. But I won't lie to you: my interest in you is... very strong; and knowing it is, at least in part, reciprocated is a significant boost. I have been alone for a long time as well; you are the first person I have had hopes for in many years.”

Will stays still while he listens to his perfectly crafted speech, his eyes alight with curiosity and interest: he eats up every word, consumes it like it's the finest meal he has ever tasted and Hannibal for one moment, has the distinct impression of feeling his teeth tearing at his flesh.

When he's done, the man smiles, so brightly Hannibal is sure that something in what he said managed to win him over completely. Will is incredible receptive to honesty, probably because he doesn't see much of it in his day to day life: and it's beautiful to see how happiness shines on his face, smoothing his features and lighting up his blue eyes.

Hannibal gives in when Will pulls him closer and kisses him deeply, caressing his hair and clinging to him like it's all he wants to do in his life. This kiss in different, it has a deeper complicity than their previous ones: it's a kiss that, possibly, hits him even harder, because it gives him the concrete feeling of already being able to taste the possibility of success.

“Like I said: you have such a way with words.”

Hannibal smiles, seductively nuzzling against Will's neck.

“You must leave me at least one weapon, since you seem to be able to take away all the others.”

Will laughs.

“We can take it slowly, see each other more to understand better what to do. I like you in my life, in Aleksandra's life. You make her happy and that means the world to me.”

Hannibal nods and kisses him again: what is he thinking about? He so desperately wants to know, to understand what is moving in his brain at this very moment. But he can't push this any further, he knows that: he wants to give Will the impression of being in control, of holding the future of their relationship in his hands; all his questions will have to wait for a better time.

“Then I accept my role. And your words.”

Will grins.

“Good. Now let's go find Tiny.”

\-----

Aleksandra is asleep once again when they enter the room, curled on her side while hugging her stuffed animal close to her chest, immersed in hopefully blissful dreams: she looks so incredibly small in his wide bed, barely a bump under the thick covers.

Hannibal watches how brightly Will smiles when he sees her, walking towards his sleeping daughter as silently as he can not to disturb her: his fingers caress Aleksandra's hair like tender feathers, filled with a gentleness he can't help being mesmerized by. He can't look away, the sight compels him so deeply he almost finds himself holding his breath.

Will put on the pants he was wearing the evening before, but kept the t-shirt he slept in: he looks so incongruous there, but Hannibal sees a beauty in that sight he commits to his memory right away. After gently kissing his daughter's head, he straightens up and puts his hands in the pockets, looking around awkwardly and without focusing on him. Hannibal wonders if he can feel the heat of his gaze, the intensity of it: so he looks away.

He hears Will sighs deeply, and then he sits down on the best next to the child, rubbing her arm: it's a precious and intimate moment, and he's not sure if he should be allowed to witness it or not, but does it anyway.

“When she was a baby, she never wanted to fall asleep: it's not that she cried too much or was cranky all the time, she just did not want to sleep. I could try everything: playing with her for hours, feeding her, reading her all her books over and over... but nothing. Tiny would just stare at me with her beautiful eyes and sometimes a little smile on her face. The only thing that would work was sitting down with her and let all our dogs surround the two of us, smell her and brush against her. I guess that made her feel safe, in some way...”

Will is smiling while he shares with him this apparently inane detail of his daughter's past: but Hannibal is smart enough to see what this really is. He's pointing out that Tiny feels safe enough with him as well, to the point where she can let herself fall asleep in his territory: it's a further proof that he's getting closer and closer to his goal of being accepted into their family.

He smiles.

A part of him wishes he could've seen them back then, the perfect image of a Madonna holding her child to her chest.

“A strong willed girl since her earliest days! It does not surprise me at all, considering your own strength as well. You two are a wonderful team together.”

Will turns towards him and stares at him once again like he's trying to carve him up and slip inside of him, remove all his armor and see what he's hiding. He feels elated and light headed in this precise moment, as if watching this fascinating man attempting to tear him apart is the most erotic and seductive thing he has ever witnessed in his whole life.

Do it, eat me up, devour me; he wants to whisper that to Will Graham, to watch how his pupils would dilate, his heartbeat increase, and wondering if he'd smile or not.

Can he sees all this reflected on his face and in his eyes? Hannibal isn't entirely sure, and this only fuels his desperate need to get more out of Will, to understand him.

The moment pass, leaving behind only a faint trace of electricity. Will looks away, scratches his head again and then takes a deep breath.

“Thank you for saying that: a lot of people are easy to judge us, our life, my role as a father. But you don't and I like that about you.”

He smiles, in a shy and slightly uncomfortable way, like he's not sure that's the appropriate reaction to his words: Hannibal thinks he's beautiful like this, slightly distressed and vulnerable.

“I would never dream to judge you that way: I am not a father, I have no idea what kind of bond links you to your child, and intruding would be unspeakably rude. But I can see you love her very much, and I think that's already very important. She's happy, because you make her happy.”

The man sighs, smiling again and nodding, relaxing in front of him: then Will returns his attention to Aleksandra and gently shakes her, coaxing her awake with kisses and caresses.

“Hey Sharky, it's time to wake up!”

Tiny groans and rubs her little eyes, coming back to the present time surprisingly quickly, seeing her father and smiling to him, before getting up and hugging him right away, burying her face against the crook of his neck while Will rubs her back and laughs.

“Daddy!”

Will kisses her temple and rocks her into his arms until she's completely awake, then allows her to sit on his lap and pets her hair to make her giggle. He's forgotten for a moment, but what he's being gifted is far more important and he's satisfied with just observing them.

Once again, he pictures Will holding a newborn Tiny to his chest, feeding her himself, the signs of pregnancy still clinging to his body, making him look pliant and soft: he licks his lips because he's sure neither of them would notice, as busy as they are with each other, but he files that image away in his mind, to revisit it later, once alone.

“Hey, pretty baby: so you woke up and went to bother Hannibal, uh? That's not very nice!”

He's not accusing her, because his voice is playful and he's smiling, so the little girl doesn't tense in his arms, but just turns around to look at him for support.

“I didn't bother him! Tell him, Hannibal, tell him!”

“It's true: she did not. It was a beautiful way to start the day, seeing Aleksandra so up close.”

Will rolls his eyes, but keeps smiling. He kisses Tiny's cheek and inhales her scene, while the little girl waves at him so he'll get closer to them.

“Fine, fine: looks like the two of you are allying against me!”

Tiny giggles in his arms, as she observes Hannibal sitting down on the bed as well, a little removed from the two of them in order to give them some privacy, but close enough to catch their mixed scents, so sweet to his nostrils he can't help but indulging himself.

He observes them as they chat lively, eats up the beautiful expressions on their faces and allows that sense of peace to sink deep into him, as he'll always be able to recall it together with the memory of them.

Will catches his eyes and smiles fondly, sighing as he listens to Aleksandra who is finishing telling him about how she started the morning. When the little girl is done, she hugs him tightly and kisses his cheek as Will runs his hands through her curls.

“Okay, Sharky, lets get you dressed so we can pack our things and finally leave Hannibal alone.”

There's definitely a moment in there somewhere, where Hannibal has to fight the impulse to groan loudly, to manifest his disagreement in the loudest and most possessive way possible: he doesn't want them to leave, not yet at least, when he still has the feeling he could do more to impress them.

He stops himself in time, but his desire echoes Tiny's whining, as her soft voice begs Will to stay a little bit more: if it were up to him, they would never leave; but he has to make due with what he has.

“Please, allow me to make you two some breakfast before you hit the road. You're probably both hungry.”

Will looks unsure, like he feels suddenly like he's occupying too much space in his house and in his life, and wants to somehow fix that, despite how enthusiastically Tiny agrees with his proposal, trying to coax her daddy to say yes.

“Please, daddy, please! I'm hungry and I don't want to go yet!”

“I thought we could eat something on our way home... and we already imposed on Hannibal way too much...”

Hannibal quickly smiles and shakes his head.

“Having the two of you here is a privilege, not an imposition. I'm more than welcome to accommodate your presence in my home at any time. Please, stay: take a shower if you want, help Tiny change. Then we'll eat something and you two can go back to your house and your dogs. A couple more hours will not hurt anyone, yes?”

Will thinks on it for a moment, but from the grin on his face that follows this brief pause, he knows he'll not fight this any further.

“Very well then. Thank you very much for your hospitality. You seem to enjoy us way too much, so why should we deprive you of our company? Right, Sharky?”

Tiny agrees and kisses her father's cheek to thank him.

He exchanges another, deep and long look with Will, and truth be told, he's not entirely sure what he's seeing there: the man is giving him something, a chance to prove himself perhaps, to strengthen his bond with Tiny. But he's also telling him that it has to happen under his watchful gaze. He's not sure how to react to this kind of challenge yet, but he smiles anyway.

Hannibal welcomes this moment alone: he retreats in his private bathroom to shower, to collect all his thoughts and feelings, to prepare.

Will Graham understands and sees too much: he's a double edged sword he needs to handle very carefully.

He smiles to himself and starts plotting his next move.

\-----

Hannibal feels a lot calmer and more like himself, when Aleksandra and Will find him in the kitchen, flooding it with their clean and relaxed scent: the little girls forces him to take her into his arms right away, and he finds himself strolling around the kitchen with the child on his hip, smiling and hugging him, while Will watches them in silence.

He takes his time to accommodate her, to asks her questions and compliment her clothes: he can feel her father's eyes on them, and is determined to impress him as much as he can and in the best possible way. The little girl looks so comfortable in his arms, so completely at ease there that it makes him feel strangely elated, like he has been given a rare and precious gift he must be very careful not to waste.

Aleksandra looks around, examines the room, all his tools with smart and critical eyes: then she smiles.

“Hannibal, your house is so nice and so big!”

“I am very glad you like it. And I hope you'll have more chances to come here to explore all the rooms you haven't seen yet: and there's plenty.”

Wills rolls his eyes, but doesn't look annoyed, but more amused and entertained than anything.

“Please don't encourage her too much or you'll see us here all the time!”

Hannibal catches his meaning and grins in response.

“Ah, it looks like your father as uncovered my secret plan! What's to be done about that?”

The child giggles, but then her attention is caught by the food selection in front of her, as Hannibal walks with her behind the counter and allows her to admire the whole room from her privileged view. Will, on the other hand, without asking for permission, goes to sit on the chair in the corner, so he can observe them without disturbing their interactions.

Hannibal catches his eyes and smiles at him, widely and honestly, trying to put as much charm in it as he can. Will laughs at that, understanding his intentions and shaking his head.

“Are you hungry, Tiny? What do you and your father usually eat in the morning?”

Aleksandra nods, and he can hear her stomach rumble, as she rests her little head on his shoulder and wraps her arms firmly around his neck. Hannibal rocks her gently, taking extreme care in handling her, like she's the most precious gem in existence.

“Daddy drinks a lot of coffee! Because he's always so sleepy in the morning and needs a little help to wake up. Then he makes pancakes with syrup or milk with cereals. And then we sit in the kitchen with all the dogs!”

“That sounds very beautiful, actually. Is your father a good cook?”

Will laughs again from his corner, accepting the steaming cup of coffee Hannibal hands him, while Aleksandra observes the moment between the two of them.

“I'm not as good as you, of course. You're messing up our palate: we won't be able to like anything else anymore after tasting your food.”

He smiles guiltily as Tiny giggles in his arms and Will stares right at him, piercing through him with his eyes: he doesn't look away, of course, and the man seems to appreciate his boldness, and gives him a fond, slightly shy award smile in return.

“I feel like I should apologize for it; allow me to do so with my food then. What would you like to eat, Tiny? I can make pancakes if you want; I'm sure they won't match your father's, but I'm willing to try to impress you nevertheless.”

Tiny blushes just like her father does, with her cheeks flushed with a subtle, but beautiful shade of pink: she reacts to attention and affection either by rejecting it entirely and shying away from it, putting up her walls and hiding behind them, or by dwelling in it, giving in to the praise she receives and clinging to the person in question. Hannibal knows he's lucky to fall into the second category, because she might be just a child, but she's incredibly smart and strong, and her acceptance is important to him.

She looks at Will for approval perhaps and her eyes search his, making him smile sweetly.

“Do you want pancakes too, daddy? Can we make them?”

The man gets up laughing to kiss the top of her head, and, after a moment lost in the observation of the pair, Hannibal hands her to him, watching the two of them as Will holds her and gently rocks her in his arms just like he had been doing. With one eye, he keeps Hannibal's reactions under scrutiny, to see what he'd do, but the rest of his focus is all on her.

“Of course we can, Sharky. Right, Hannibal?”

He smiles and runs a hand through Aleksandra's hair: for a second, his fingers flicker on Will's skin as well, and he can feel him shiver.

Will reacts to touch differently from his daughter: he can still sense some resistance in the way he tenses and stares at him like he's considering to run, some reluctance to trust him and give in to his touch. But it's a beautiful sight when he does, when Hannibal can feel him giving in and relax into his hands.

Oh, he can just picture how receptive to his touch he'd be on other circumstances, but that's a thought he better keep for another time. Now he smiles as gently as he can.

“Absolutely. Shall we get started?”

\------

He sits Aleksandra on the counter, right next to him while he works, so the child can see what he's doing: she looks endlessly fascinated by all his actions, mesmerized by his movements, and makes little, excited sounds every time Hannibal performs a little trick for her.

 

Will is sitting in his corner again, sipping his coffee with a mildly indulgent and amused smile on his face: he looks so beautiful like this, Hannibal considers silent inside himself, with the morning light shining on him and the heavy weights he carries on his shoulders lifted for the time being. He watches him and then he studies how Aleksandra reacts to all he does.

 

But at the same time, he's relaxed: this is not a test for him, but just a way to get to know him better than he does now, to see how he and his daughter interact on a purely domestic setting.

 

He's determined to be up to the challenge.

 

Hannibal makes way more pancakes than he usually would: he likes to indulge himself in something quick, easy and unrefined from time to time, especially after a long night spent killing and butchering his new victim; he perfected the recipe over the years, and now he smiles as Tiny claps her little hands and kicks her feet in excitement as he makes more and more food appear in their plates.

 

“You are so good, Hannibal!”

 

“And you are way too kind, Aleksandra. Would you like me to teach you how to make them one of these days? If your father approves, of course.”

 

She nods emphatically, turning towards Will with a begging expression on his face.

 

“Yes, yes, Hannibal! Please, Daddy, please say yes! Can I learn daddy? You let me help you sometimes, can I help Hannibal too?”

 

Will snorts loudly, following it with a coarse laugh that echoes around them.

 

“Oh, hell. You two really have allied against me, haven't you? You're spoiling her way too much.”

 

Hannibal smiles in return, but says nothing to excuse himself. Will sighs deeply and relents.

 

“Well, I guess that's okay. I trust you to keep her safe; and I can... trust you on that. Right?”

 

It's a very dangerous and delicate questions, because of course Hannibal is the opposite of trustworthy, of harmless: Will might be still unaware of this, at least consciously, but he must sense something turbid and unsafe about him, like a dark shadow he takes with him always.

 

And yet, deep inside his heart, Hannibal knows perfectly that Aleksandra is safe with him, that he would never allow any arm to come to the child: he knows that Will can see it too, and that he's pressing on that part of him, trying to appeal to it in the strongest way possible for him. Sometimes, he feels far too exposed in front of Will Graham: he discovers weaknesses he didn't know he had and that he struggles to hide.

 

He smiles.

 

“Of course. I would never let anything happen to her.”

 

Will takes a very long and deep breath after he's finished, keeps his eyes pointed on him and then, very slowly, he nods and tries to smile: it's a moment that weights on both of them, that establishes a dangerous expectation.

 

If Hannibal were ever to let Will down on that front, there would be nothing he could do to win him back: he knows this, he knows he should not have exposed himself so much, yet he could not stop, could not hold back and wriggle away from the question.

 

He wanted to give Will an answer, a clear one: and he's ready to deal with what will follow. The Grahams make him reckless, desperate and hopeful: it's something that feels alien inside of him, uncomfortable, like it's occupying too much space and he doesn't know how to make room for all he's feeling.

 

Yet, he gives in: he wants more. And Will's smile makes him hope he'll get exactly what he wants.

 

He leaves them alone for a moment, while he goes to set the table in the living room, despite Will's insistence that they would be just fine there in the kitchen, and when he comes back, he takes his time staring at Aleksandra in her father's arms, smiling brightly at him as he cuddles her gently.

 

They're talking about him, and he hides in the shadows to carefully listen to their words.

 

“Hannibal is being really nice, isn't he Daddy?”

 

“Yeah, he is, Sharky. Do you like being here? Spending so much time with him? I feel like it might happen more and more often, if you're okay with it.”

 

Aleksandra giggles to herself, probably remembering their conversation, the secret they're sharing about his intentions with Will and his interest in him. She nods and looks so bright, so full of life and hope that it makes something inside of him stir with longing.

 

“I'm okay with it. Are you okay with it, Daddy? We don't have to see him if you don't want to, right?”

 

Will laughs and covers her in little kisses as he rocks her in his arms, watching with his eyes alight with a complete and absolute love as she laughs in response and kisses him loudly on the cheek.

 

“I'm more than okay with it, Sharky. You were right, you know? He really is a nice man.”

 

Tiny nods solemnly and relaxes in his arms, her head on his shoulder: they're a sight he wishes he could freeze in time, let this moment crystallize in the perfect impression of the two of them so close together, linked and hopeful towards a new life with him in it. He realizes he's like the evil genie of a fairytale, gaining their trust, worming his way into their perfect family: he wonders what the outcome of all this will be for him and for them.

 

If he'll end up destroying it all or not.

 

He rearranges his mask before entering the room and make his presence clear: he hides his thoughts under it, away from Will's keen eyes.

 

“Breakfast is served.”

 

\-----

 

Once again, the perfect and carefully organized setting of his home and life are destroyed by the Graham inhabiting him, and on his table, the finest china and silverware are paired with Tiny's plastic cutlery and sippycup. He watches the child as she eagerly digs into the pancakes, the scrambled eggs and the slices of bacon in her plate; watches Will as he laughs with her and does the same.

 

Feeding them is a privilege, something that mixes two incredibly different needs he feels inside: the one to nurture, to take care of, something that has been growing stronger as of late; and the one to manipulate, to tie the two if them tighter around his finger, to keep them linked to him by yet another thing.

 

Thought he refrains from serving his victims to the two of them, he still slips deeper and further into their lives thanks to this one simple gesture.

 

Will touches his hand once during breakfast, caressing the top of it with his callous and strong fingers that at the same time can appear and be so gentle on his skin: he smiles and shivers in anticipation, because he knows there's more to come.

 

“Thank you for this, for all you do for her. I still can't figure out what you're getting out of this, if I can truly trust you or this is just a very well crafted act. I'm still note sure why I'm so willing to give it a try.”

 

Aleksandra is distracted by her stuffed animal, so they can both focus on this moment: Hannibal bows his head a little bit, acknowledging his words with a very subtle smile. He wants at the same time to tie Will Graham to him so tightly he'll never be able to break free ever again, and to allow him to make his own choices at his own pace, because being truly accepted and invited so willingly and enthusiastically is the twisted and secret desire he holds inside of him.

 

“We have plenty of time to find all that out. Together, perhaps.”

 

Will nods, a blush appearing on his cheeks as he goes back to finish his food.

 

Is he convincing enough to bypass his defenses? To burn the bridges that still separate them? He's sure he'll enjoy that taste of ashes and fire in his mouth when the time will come.

 

He kisses Aleksandra's forehead and holds her for a long time when it's finally time for them to leave. The child makes him promise they'll see each other very soon, and he's only happy to say that it'll happen.

 

“You should come over for breakfast, taste my pancakes. So you can give me some advices, maybe.”

 

“I look forward to it, Will.”

 

Hannibal dares reaching out to gently caress his arm, and relishes once again in the liquid desire he reads in his eyes, in the way he doesn't pull away from the touch, but leans into it. He stares at their car until it disappears down the road.

 

His house his quiet afterward, empty, almost drained of the authentic life they brought into it: Hannibal goes in the guest room they occupied to smell the air one last time, to allow the scent of them to sink into his lungs, to memorize it as perfectly as he can.

 

He notices a few hair abandoned on the pillow cases, brown against the startling white of them: very carefully, he removes both cases and puts them in a plastic bag, to preserve them intact.

 

There's a moment of stillness after that, where nothing moves and even his heartbeat slows down: he can feel his goal within reach, so close he can taste it. He needs to be careful, to be attentive, to trust his instincts.

 

Hannibal smiles to himself, and after he feels calm enough once again, he starts cleaning the house.

 

I'll start from the kitchen, he thinks. And he feels lighter than he had in years.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well here we are with a new chapter! See? I promised no more eternal waits for an update, hopefully this positive trend will continue.   
> And hopefully the finale tonight won't mess up my inspiration and disappoint me too much. I don't really have expectations. We'll see, we'll see! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and compliments! I love you all.

Will takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes a couple of times, adjusting Aleksandra in his arms in the best way to keep her comfortable, before finally walking into the FBI Academy building at Quantico: his daughter has her eyes closed, but isn't completely asleep, thought she's not very awake either, with her head resting on his shoulder and her weight abandoned against his chest.

 

The sudden closing of her school due to a burst pipe completely messed up their usual schedule, forcing him to take her at work with him, something he always tries to avoid, if possible: the whole place seems to radiate evil sometimes, as if the horrors and violence investigated and dissected in its rooms sipped through the walls, poisoning the whole building, making it evil to its core.

 

Even the air feels too heavy, suffocating and oppressive at times, filled with ghosts and monsters lurking in its dark corners: and he doesn't want to expose Tiny to any of that; even if it's just in his head, the delusion of a broken man. Because she's the light of his life, and he'd do anything to keep her safe.

 

Lenny in on duty at the entrance, and he gives Will a bright and welcoming smile, especially when he spots the little girl he's holding.

 

“Morning, professor Graham. Is that your daughter?”

 

“Yes, this is Aleksandra. Come on, Tiny, say hi to Lenny, yes?”

 

Tiny groans a little, but still raises her head while rubbing her eyes and squinting to put the man into focus: then she waves a little, smiling politely even though Will can tell she'd rather go back to sleep.

 

“Hi, Lenny. I'm Aleksandra, how are you?”

 

The man smiles and shakes her little hand when she offers it.

 

“I'm very well, thank you. Is she going to stay with you all day, professor?”

 

“Yeah, troubles at her school, and my usual babysitter is busy as well, so no chances of getting her help... who's already here?”

 

Lenny checks his records while Aleksandra goes back to lie on his chest, making sleepy sounds that make him smile. Will kisses her forehead and gently lulls her in his arms, trying to keep her warm and comfortable despite everything. She whispers that she loves him and he can't help feeling a deep warmth that spreads in his chest at that.

 

“Doctor Bloom and Agent Katz. Agent Crawford's gonna be in court all morning, but will be here after lunch, I believe. Now, you should get your daughter inside, professor. Have a nice day.”

 

Will nods and smiles, before he handles the big man the child for a moment to sign the register himself.

 

“Thank you, Lenny.”

 

It's true that on a normal day Aleksadra would be already awake and getting ready for school by now, but he had to wake her up significantly earlier than usual, and the trip to Quantico is not as comfortable and quick as the one to her school. She has only been there a couple of times, and the place seems to always intimidate her a little: Will kisses her again and holds her closer, rocking her and whispering soothing words in her ear.

 

“Daddy, I'm still a little tired. And I'm hungry too.”

 

“I know, Sharky, I know. Let's go get you something to eat, alright? And then we'll find a place for you to rest a lil bit more before daddy has to start working.”

 

He lets her down so she can explore the corridors and distract herself a little, peaking in all the offices and classrooms while they walk towards the cafeteria: he can tells she doesn't really like being here, but the excitement that new places always bring to her is still strong enough to help her relax.

 

Sometimes, he's so afraid that she's growing up too quickly and that she soon is not going to need him as much as she does now; he has this irrational desire of being able to stop time: while he was growing up, he never had much chances to make good memories, there isn't really much he looks back to with longing and nostalgia. But with Tiny, it's completely different: he enjoys every moment he spends with her, and misses them when they pass.

 

“Daddy, this place is so big! Is it very hard to work here?”

 

He sighs, watching her as she walks around and smiles hard in awe of her unfamiliar surroundings: one of the few things she took from him and from her other parent alike is her curiosity, her need to explore and understand how things work in all their different forms. But, unlike theirs, hers is so filled with innocence and kindness, with no traces of that ugly darkness he brings with him.

 

“Yeah, sometimes. It can be very tiring and stressful for daddy. But it also gives me great satisfaction, you know? I feel good about myself and about my job when I manage to catch bad people and put them in jail where they can't hurt anyone. It has good and bad sides like most things.”

 

Tiny nods solemnly, like she understands him perfectly, even thought Will knows she's still too young to be able to: she likes to show him her support, to be always there for him. He remembers Hannibal's words, telling him that he raised a wonderful little girl, a smart, kind and compassionate one.

 

He's so used to belittle himself as a parent, to find any kind of fault in his behavior, that accepting this kind of praise always takes time, effort and a lot of pain. He smiles, thought. Because it's true: Aleksandra is a good girl, and he's doing a good job with her.

 

“Daddy, all the rooms look so much alike. Do you ever get lost and get scared?”

 

Will holds her little hand and squeezes it gently.

 

“I don't really get lost anymore in here, but it used to be very confusing! And sometimes it can be scary, yes. You know daddy does a complicated and dangerous job: but every time something frightens me, I think of you; and you give me all the strength I need. And I know that if I ever got lost, you'd find me. Right?”

 

Tiny looks up to him, and then nods very seriously, accepting this responsibility with her usual solemn expression. Then she smiles brightly, holding his hand a little tighter.

 

“Of course I would, daddy! I would never leave you!”

 

Will kneels in front of her and hugs her, keeping her firmly against his chest like he used to do when she was a baby and could fit perfectly in his arms: the little girl sighs deeply and reciprocates, her little head against his shoulder as he rubs her back. Her hair are soft under his hand and she smells exactly like she did all those years ago: she's clean and pure, the only thing in his life untouched by the evil he faces.

 

“I love you so much, Sharky. You know that right?”

 

Aleksandra giggles a little and kisses him hard on the cheek, hugging him again and allowing Will to pick her up, resting comfortably in his solid arms, looking down on him with a soft grin on her face.

 

“I love you too so much, daddy!”

 

In her there's little of the man that happened to be her father: when he looks at her, at her bright blue eyes and her curls, her gentle smile and her good nature, he never thinks of him. She remains above all that: above his past, his demons and his secrets. Will breathes in her scent for a moment more, before they start walking again.

 

“Hannibal would come find you too if you got lost, daddy. He told me I didn't have to be afraid of his house, because you and him would always come to take me back!”

 

The thought if Hannibal is a welcomed distraction, and he laughs at her words.

 

“That's nice of him to say.”

 

Their conversation is interrupted when they see Alana in the cafeteria, busy with the first of her many daily coffees: they spot her right away, but it takes a moment for her to do the same. But when she finally does, her face becomes alight with a beautiful and wide smile of pure delight, and she abandons everything to walk fast towards them, opening her arms to welcome Tiny in them.

 

“Oh my God, look who we have here! Hello, little monster!” 

 

Tiny laughs softly at her nickname, and quickly climbs into Alana's arms, giving her a big hug and her usual cheek kiss: there are very few people she's this affectionate with, other than him. Will can count them on one hand, and they're all immensely important to her: he's happy one of them is Alana Bloom, with her warmth, her kindness and her desire to be always helpful, even when she doesn't really manage to be.

 

“Hi Alana! How are you?”

 

“I'm very good! Thank you for asking. What are you doing here? No school today?”

 

Will sighs, scratching his head.

 

“Burst pipe at her school: lessons have been called off for like two weeks, I think. And Abigail is at school all day today. So no dice of getting her help. I'll have to find someplace I can leave her at in the mornings, I don't want to take her here everyday.”

 

Alana nods, while she allows Aleksandra to admire her necklace and her dress. The woman walks towards her bench with the child in her arms, and Will follows them in silence: he watches her adjust his daughter in her lap and wonders if that's how he looks as well, if when people stare at him caring for his daughter they feel the same kind of endearment he does. She still bears the signs of her own pregnancy, and it brings back so many memories for him: most of them are happy and he relishes in them.

 

He always liked Alana for her strength, her kindness and her affection for Tiny: he is but they managed to become closer after she became a mother.

 

Will smiles and relaxes.

 

“Margot and David are out of town, but they'll be back in a couple of days. She could stay with them, I'm sure it'll be okay with Margot.”

 

“Honestly, it's not necessary. I'm sure I'll find a way; I don't want to be a burden to the two of you. I know how hard it is to take care of a newborn baby, even without adding to it another child.”

 

Alana takes a deep breath, assuming her legendary unimpressed and mildly scolding expression that always makes him smile: Aleksandra looks at the two of them and silently observes their reactions.

 

“Your dad is so stubborn, you know that, little monster? Even though you tell him time and time again that he's not a burden, he just won't listen!”

 

Tiny giggles in her arms and shakes her head at him, while even Will cracks a smile and takes one of her hands into his, rubbing it gently.

 

“It's so true, daddy, you're really hopeless.”

 

He tries to look offended, but the look on Aleksandra's face melts him as usual, and he takes her from Alana's arms to hold her in his lap, cuddling her gently, before kissing her forehead. With him, she is never shy in demonstrating affections and accepting his love: their bond was immediate, right from the moment she was born and only managed to grow stronger and stronger. Will loves his father, but they were always cold and awkward with each other, never quiet at ease, and there was never much physical display of affection.

 

He wanted Tiny to know she was loved from the very start: and never held back. She reciprocates by putting her arms around his neck and nuzzling against his shoulder like she used to do when she was a baby. He rubs her back gently: Alana is looking at the two of them with a soft smile on her face, her eyes nearly moist with tears. 

 

“What do you say, Sharky? Would you like it to stay with Margot and baby David in the mornings while daddy is at work?”

 

Tiny nods right away, her fingers playing a little with the collar of his shirt and sweater, while he adjusts the dress she's wearing and kisses her head again.

 

“Yes, yes. Can I hold baby David a little, Alana? I promise I'll be careful! Daddy let me hold Buster when he was just a puppy, and I didn't hurt him!”

 

Alana sighs deeply and then nods.

 

“Of course: you're a big girl, right? I'm sure you'll handle him perfectly.”

 

She blushes, happy and satisfied by all the compliments she's receiving lately. Hannibal was right on their first meeting: Tiny can be withdrawn and shy around strangers, too quiet to allow herself to be heard. It takes her time to be noticed, to be appreciated, and most importantly to trust people enough to do that: but when she does, she brights up.

 

Will sometimes blames himself for his daughter's bad habits: for her tendency to isolate herself inside her own head, for her being far too aloof and sometimes removed from what surrounds her. It's hard to get her to talk about what bothers her, even if it's hurting her. But at the same time, it takes him a lot of efforts to allow himself to see the good traits he passed on to her: her kindness and her desire to help others, her irony and sense of humor. Hannibal points all this out to him when they are alone: and it leaves Will with such a deep sense of gratitude towards this still mysterious man, and he's not sure it's a good thing.

 

“Alright then, it's settled. Now, wait here for a moment: Alana and I will go get something to eat and drink; you stay where I can see you, Sharky, okay?”

 

She nods and pulls out of his bag her coloring book and pencils, focusing on choosing what picture to start with: Will kisses the top of her head, inhaling her delicate scent.

 

He thinks about Hannibal again while they're in line for coffee and pastries: a couple of night earlier, he took him and Aleksandra out for dinner, somewhere so expensive Will was nearly sure they wouldn't even let him in. 

 

But the man smiled at him, at the discomfort on his face and very subtly caressed his hand to reassure him: and it turned out to be a wonderful evening, with Tiny mesmerized by every detail, starting with the ornate plates to the room decoration. Hannibal took her in his arms to show her around, watching her excitement with a grin of pure delight on his face.

 

He refused to let Will pay his part, of course: he smiled, charming as usual, and simply shook his head, taking care of the bill with him not really doing anything to stop him. And it hit something into him, a weird thought that had not occurred to him since the earliest days of their relationship: how differently they handle their past poverty.

 

Will is not a poor man anymore: he own the house he lives in, has a job that pays well and his papers generate more than enough royalties in academic circles; yet the only things he's willing to spend on are Aleksandra, her well being and the dogs.

 

He has a deep rejection for wasting money on things he doesn't consider important: he prefers to save them for Tiny's college fund, to get her better clothes, to give their dogs the best medical care. And then, there's Hannibal: who freely spends and has no problems showing off his wealth, though always in a tasteful way.

 

While Will clamped down to count his blessings, to look out for the future, Hannibal decided to live in the moment: if he could, he'd shower us in luxury, he'd spoil us just because he wants to. It brings a smile to his face, despite the questions this arises.

 

Will wonders how hard his life has been, what he hides under his poised attitude and charm: there are so many questions, and yet there's also a deep need to trust him despite them.

 

“You look different, you know?”

 

Alana is grinning knowingly at him when he finally shakes away from his thoughts and focuses on her again, nervously clearing his throat. He feels embarrassed, but tries not to show it too much and looks back to check on Aleksandra, who's peacefully working on her drawing.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I'm not exactly sure... there's just something in you that's more relaxed and hopeful. Like some of the weariness you always take with you has been drained out of you, leaving you lighter and less haunted. But it might be just my impression; maybe I'm seeing something that's not actually there.”

 

Will absently scratches his head and takes a deep breath: Alana scans him with her smart, knowing eyes, capable of picking up the little changes in his body language and attitude. He thinks about Hannibal again, about the secrets they share and that he still doesn't feel ready to reveal to anyone. Not in details at least.

 

“I guess it's true, yeah: I've been feeling better lately, less oppressed by the job and a little more at peace with myself.”

 

He has been trying to sort out his feelings for him over the past few weeks, to understand this deep connection that's growing between them: Hannibal managed to slip behind all his walls so easily and so quietly he barely noticed it until it happened. He charms him and Aleksandra, spoils them, seduces them: Will loves to watch how brightly she smiles when she is with him. 

 

Her affection for him is real and genuine, and it just keeps growing and growing: a part of him is afraid of that, but he can't stop himself from encouraging it. Because he can't even remember the last time he felt so elated by the possibility of having someone in their lives in a permanent way, or if it ever happened: and he so desperately wants to trust this feeling blooming inside of him, to allow it to grow even more. He wants to feel less alone, to watch Hannibal Lecter take his loneliness and burn it to the ground.

 

But the way he feels doesn't make him blind.

 

When he looks at Hannibal, from time to time, he can still feel that deep fear that gripped him on their first meeting, that sense of terrible, impending danger looming over him that he just couldn't explain, but also could not shake off. There are moments, when he looks at him and sees a staggering darkness hiding in the corners of his person suit: black tendrils caressing him and Aleksandra, desperate to be able to slide inside of them.

 

Will is never sure what to make of that feeling, because it passes so quickly he can never truly analyze it: maybe it's just his imagination running wild, projecting his fears on the man by his side and reacting to how confused he feels. Or if he is actually catching the hint of something deeply buried inside of Hannibal, of dark secrets he's not sure he wants to confront just yet.

 

He sighs.

 

“Is there a reason why you're feeling like this? A reason you can share with me?”

 

He looks at Alana and smiles, taking another deep breath to try to get this sickening feeling out of his system and focus on what surrounds him now. Aleksandra waves at him when he looks at her, a happy expression on her face: he feels better after a moment, with his doubts stashed once again in the back of his mind.

 

“I've been... seeing someone lately. Kind of. I'm not really sure what to call it to be honest...”

 

A look of surprise mixed with happiness opens on Alana's face, and the woman stops in her tracks for a moment, forgetting about the food and the coffee and focusing on him.

 

“Will, that's great! Honestly! I don't think I've ever seen you date anyone or even been interested in someone since I know you...”

 

“That's because I never did, not exactly. There wasn't anyone worth the effort.”

 

But Hannibal is, whispers a voice in his head: the man who waltzed into his life quietly, and took up more and more space as time went by, charmed Aleksandra into loving him, and very slowly he's doing the same with him. 

 

He remembers thinking that, though he might not be a good man, Hannibal is kind: and that whatever he feels for the two of them is real. And Will is seduced by that desire, by that honesty, by the attention he showers on Tiny.

 

“Who are they? Someone I know?”

 

“No, I don't think so. I met him through Tiny's school: he volunteers there as a psychiatrist. Tiny adores him, she's completely enamored: so he started to be more and more present in our life. And it might become something a little more serious: not sure yet.”

 

The woman nods slowly, but catches his attempt to deflect and not give her any real details: she's way too smart not to. Will isn't sure what he just said makes any sense, because, honestly, his whole relationship with Hannibal is hard to grasp even for him sometimes.

 

And he doesn’t feel like he's getting any better at understanding how he feels towards him and what to do.

 

Alana reflects on his words for a while, while they pay their bills and slowly make their way back to Aleksandra: she adjusts her long black hair and from time to time glances back at him; Will attempts a smile, but isn't sure he managed one.

 

“Well, I can't say I'm not surprised, especially considering how well I know how wary you are of psychiatrists and doctors in general. But... this seems to be doing you a lot of good? I don't think I've ever seen you looking better. And Aleksandra looks happy too.”

 

Will sighs, because he knows it's true: and the thought that something might go badly and ruin what he's trying slowly and carefully to build crashes down on him again.

 

“He showers her with attentions; never talks down on her. He has a natural gift in handling young children and especially Aleksandra. You know how shy she is, how hard it is for her to trust new people.”

 

Alana takes a deep breath and stops before they reach their table: she smiles sympathetically at him, like she understands what he's going through, even though they both know she can't. She knows a few things about his past, but not enough to know how terrified and elated at the same time he feels at the possibility of letting somebody into his life like he's tempted to do with Hannibal.

 

There's a hitch under his skin, a desperate desire to touch him, to kiss him, to tell him to stay with them forever. And it's something that never happened to him with this intensity. 

“And I know how hard it is for you to do that: he must be quite something to make such an impression. Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

 

Will, knowing he probably has never been this honest with her as he's being right now, shakes his head, sipping some of his coffee and mentally winching at how bland it tastes: it helps him to regain some clarity at least.

 

“Are you giving me relationships advices? Is this the new level of our friendship?”

 

She laughs out loud, shaking her head and then shrugging. Will manages to crack a smile as well.

 

“Maybe, who knows. I'm not sure you'd listen to my advices, even if I gave some to you. But I'm willing to give it a go, just for the sake of it.”

 

Will nods, filling his trailer with their mugs, and with two muffins and a brownie for Tiny.

 

“No, I don't think I know what I'm doing; and that frightens me: because it's not just about me, you know? I have Tiny to think about. Right now, I'm not sure I can see the whole situation as clearly as I should...”

 

Alana smiles gently, and he knows that, in her own way, she knows what he means.

 

“You're an amazing father, Will. I know you'll always protect Aleksandra and prioritize her over anyone else in your life, because there's no one you love as much as you love her. But if this man makes you and Tiny happy... you should give it a chance, be a little braver for once and trust yourself. I know you'll make the right choices.”

 

He snorts.

 

“I'm not sure many people do, to be honest... but thank you for saying that. I'm not sure what I'm doing is the right thing, but... you helped. So thank you. And I'm taking it slow and being careful: hopefully it'll be enough.”

 

She says nothing at that, but acknowledges his words with a little nod. Will takes a deep breath and, oddly enough, really does feel better, with more perspective on his emotions towards Hannibal.

 

There's still so much to do and to find out: but now all he can do is wait.

 

Aleksandra smiles brightly at him when he comes back, showing him her brand new work of art and flooding him with her excited chatting. He sinks into her, into the sound on her voice and her little weight in his arms.

 

She's his safe arbor, and he knows he'll do all he needs to keep it that way.

 

\-----

 

Beverly finds them while they're dozing off a little on one of the couches in the teacher's room: Aleksandra is splayed on his chest, listening to him as he reads her one of her books, kissing her hair from time to time. 

 

Tiny is holding her stuffed shark, and sometimes pokes him a little with its nose, to watch Will smile at her. She's so keen on distracting him, on allowing him some moments of levity before he has to finally start his long day. They don't notice Beverly at first.

 

Then the woman claps her hands, making the child jump up in surprise; but the scare passes instantly as soon as she sees her.

 

Will smiles, not feeling like getting up, while Tiny does and goes to hug her.

 

“Bev!”

 

“Alana told me you were here, so I had to come see for myself how big and strong and badass you've become. And wow! Look at you, Tiny: I love that dress you're wearing, so many starfishes and mermaids; did your dad pick it for you?”

 

Aleksandra keeps hugging her while they talk, and Beverly takes her in her arms and puts her on her hip as they walk back towards him. Will smiles and waves lazily at the two girls.

 

“Yeah, I did pick that. It's her new favorite, right?”

 

Tiny nods.

 

“Daddy knows I like sharks and mermaids very, very much. Starfishes are nice too, I guess, but mostly I like mermaids.”

 

Beverly laughs and pats his leg to compliment him on his choice. Will watches as Tiny goes back to her previous spot on his chest, looking up to her, but happy in his arms, like she can sense he'll have to leave her soon to start working and wants to try to avoid that at all costs.

 

She can get a little possessive and mopey with him.

 

“Well, you two are looking great. Even you, Will, which it's always something worth mentioning.”

 

“Thanks for your kind words, Agent Katz. Do you know what time Jack's gonna come in? I need to ask him if I can skip the budget meeting. I can't keep her here all afternoon...”

 

The woman nods as she allows Tiny to hold her hand and tickles her a little, making her giggle. 

 

Beverly has always been one of those positive influences in his life that he learned to appreciate from the get go: she was welcoming in a callous, but kind way, never failed to make him smile and developed such a quick bond with Aleksandra thanks to her humor that it surprised even him.

 

Sometimes she drops by his house unannounced just to spend an afternoon playing with Tiny and their dogs, takes him out for breakfast after a hard case, and is always there to be the helpful friend he needs.

 

Will sighs heavily: at the thought of having to leave Tiny at the FBI kindergarten, he can already feel an headache building up behind his eyes. 

 

“Around two, I guess. But don't get your hopes up: Prurnell will be there too and I think Jack's gonna need all of us there. Don't you have a babysitter?”

 

He groans loudly, as he lets Tiny down and tells her to go pick up her things, which she does after a moment of uncertainty and not before kissing him on the cheek to cheer him up. 

 

“I completely forgot about Prurnell. And no: Abigail's at school. I don't usually need her on Mondays... well, maybe seeing her, Jack will actually remember he has a heart and let me go home. I have no idea what I'm gonna do with her otherwise. I don't want her to stay here on her own for too long.”

 

Beverly nods and tries to smile a little, while they both observe Aleksandra slowly and attentively gathering up her pencils and coloring books: Will smiles, because she always has that serious and solemn frown on her face while she does the little chores he tasks her with, and he's reminded so much of himself as a kid.

 

“Well, good luck with that! He adores her, so you might be able to pull it off, just don't count on it. Other than that, should be a pretty slow day, if karma assists us. You okay, champ?”

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

She shrugs, drinking some of her coffee and sitting next to him on the couch, taking her eyes off of Tiny to stare at him. Beverly is a lot more perspective than Alana can be sometimes: she analyzes him like a crime scene, and finds all the mistakes and incongruities hiding in him. He feels a little uncomfortable, but doesn't look away.

 

“I'm not sure: there's just something different about you. I still have to understand exactly what: but I will, and you're going to spill the beans and tell me everything when I do!”

 

Will laughs, but nods nevertheless: maybe by then, his relationship with Hannibal will be over in the worst possible ways, as it's usual for him. His chest hurts a little at the thought, like there's a deep form of hopelessness in him that makes him think it's inevitable for them to end that way. He'll see I'm not special, find out he can't cope with who I am and he'll leave me: it happened before, he knows how it goes.

 

But maybe... maybe it'll be different this time: Hannibal is not an average man, someone easily intimidated by how weird he and his life are. And he adores Tiny too much to just disappear. He wants to allow himself some hope, thought he knows he might end up getting hurt.

 

“Okay, time for me to go! Take Tiny down the lab when you have a break: I'm sure Price and Zeller are going to want to see her.”

 

“I will; but please hide all the corpses and body parts.”

 

Beverly laughs, before saying goodbye to Aleksandra and disappearing down the corridor. Will takes a deep breath.

 

“Hey Sharky, come here a sec. We need to talk a little bit.”

 

Tiny strolls towards him and climbs into his lap: Will takes a moment to enjoy her warmth, her delicate scent and her gentle affections. 

 

“What is it, daddy?”

 

“We might have to stay here longer than expected, because daddy has work to do and I'm not sure I can wriggle away from it. But I'll find someone to look after you, okay? You won't be on your own all day, I swear. Are you okay with it?”

 

She looks a little unsure, pouting like when she doesn't want him to go to work and whines a little because she wants to spend the day at home with him: he knows she values her independence and isn't scared of being alone, but she's just a normal child, who sometimes just wants her dad to be with her.

 

He sighs.

 

“I don't know... it's nice here, but I also thinks it's a weird place. I don't know if I like it.”

 

“I know, baby, I know. I'll try to talk Jack into letting me go. But if he says no, I'll have to do what he says. You understand that right?”

 

She nods vaguely, biting her lip a little and holding her stuffed animal closer to her chest; then her eyes light up with a sudden idea.

 

“Can't I stay with Hannibal?”

 

He thought about that as well for a second, while trying to find a possible solution to their problem; he's not sure what this says about him. Will sighs.

 

“I'm pretty sure he's at work too, Sharky. You know he's very busy and does an important job that helps many people.”

 

“Can't we just call him and ask him? Please, daddy, please?”

 

Will wonders if she's picking up his own uneasiness, his own desire not to leave her alone, and that's why she's reacting like this now to the idea, trying to find ways to avoid it: Tiny is a sensitive girl, too much perhaps, even thought she's not one big, exposed nerve like he is. She has the levity and happiness that come from her innocence, something Will can barely remember: but it doesn't change how deeply she can empathize with his feelings.

 

Will sighs and nods, finally earning a smile from her. He never thought he could be a good parent, when he was younger: his dad loved him, tried to do his best and their relationship improved once Will became old enough to understand all the sacrifices he did for him; but he was not a great example.

 

And so he struggles everyday with all his decisions, with his constant fears of hurting her in some way he can't even notice. Yet, at times, he hears Hannibal words echoing in his mind: that Tiny is a strong, kind and smart little girl thanks to him, and that he knows what's good for her better than anyone; it does make him feel better.

 

So he makes his choice right away, without indulging on considering all the different sides of it: he just looks at Aleksandra and knows what he has to do. The clock tells him he needs to be in his classroom soon; he sighs.

 

“Hey Sharky, listen: if you promise you'll be really quiet, and really good and patient, you can stay with daddy in the classroom while I teach, okay? How does that sound?”

 

She literally lights up and hugs him tightly, nodding against his neck and telling him she loves him. Just the thought of leaving her on her own there, when the horrors that inhabit his dreams come to life, is enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.

 

So he helps Aleksandra gather her last few things, and then walks through the corridors holding her hand.

 

\-----

 

His students stare at Tiny amused and curious, some of them waving at her and smiling when she hides behind Will's leg, pressing her face against it to pretend she's invisible: she's all red in the face and awkwardly shy, clinging to him hard and only peaking from her position from time to time to see if all those strange people are still staring at her.

 

It takes a lot of coaxing to convince her to get up in his arms so everybody can see her, and even then, she rests her head on his shoulder, hugging him.

 

“Is that your daughter, professor?”

 

“Yep, this is Aleksandra; come on Tiny, say hi? Be polite. They won't eat you.”

 

He smiles when she takes a deep breath and then, with a hint of boldness that makes his grin even wider, waves back at the class, accepting Will's kiss with a soft giggle.

 

“Hello, my name is Aleksandra Graham, and he's my daddy.”

 

She relaxes after that, gaining some confidence enough to reply to some of their questions about how old she is, why isn't she at school and if she likes it there. After about ten minutes, Tiny is cheerful and talkative as usual once again; Will sighs and kisses her temple, rocking her in his arms.

 

“All right, everyone: enough now. Let's start our lesson or we'll never get any work done.”

 

Will sits Tiny at his desk, with headphones, her favorite songs playing on his laptop and the little girl busy with her drawings and coloring books: of course, the class proceeds without any pictures projected.

 

He looks at his students and realizes how still far away from his world of horrors they all are, how far Aleksandra is for them: the sight of her lost in her own head, busy with her own little activities while he explains to the class how to catch killers and monsters, is staggering for him, it feels like nails digging into his skin and tearing him apart.

 

He knows that no matter how much he tries to protect her, he'll never be able to do that completely, that in some ways she'll always be exposed and vulnerable like he is: Will can only hope he can raise her to be strong enough to fight and win. Darkness is insidious, it can fill you up without you noticing, poison your life, your body and your blood until it's too late for you to get rid of it.

 

There are time where Will wishes he could still have some of that innocence he sees in her eyes, of that positive outlook towards the world: but he has seen and suffered too much: and Aleksandra became the center of his humanity, the core of his caring soul.

 

When she looks up to him and waves gently, he waves back, taking a little break from his speech to ruffle her hair: she leans into the touch with a soft smile on her face.

 

Hannibal's words come back to him once again, something he said at the very beginning about Aleksandra being his arbor from the storm, the safe haven he retreats to when the world is overwhelming: Will realizes that the man is starting to be part of that picture as well, with his apparently reassuring presence, with his carefully dosed warmth and care, and, more importantly, with those genuine glimpses of him he can register from time to time.

 

There's still so much hidden, though: there's the beast he can see lurking under Hannibal's person suit, his desire to unveil it, but also his fear of it. And yet he's there in his thoughts all the times, wrapped in light as well as in darkness: holding Aleksandra and making her laugh, walking the dogs with them, kissing him and making them both feel safe.

 

Will sighs, and goes back to his job with his head full of conflicting emotions, unsure where to turn to find the answers he needs.

 

He's not even sure there are any or if he'll be ever able to make sense of the feelings that move inside of him, of the mystery that is Hannibal and of how to make it all fit in his life without hurting Aleksandra.

 

There's something his father used to tell him when he was younger, a thought that comes back to him now after possibly decades spent forgotten in the back of his mind: there's no understanding other people, because at the end of the day, we don't even understands ourselves.

 

Will built his life on using his empathy like a tool to dissect the evil that inhabits the world, unveiling it and bringing it to light, even violently if it's needed. He knows what it's like to have your hands red with blood, gunpowder hanging in the air like a toxic miasma, and in seeing the most terrible acts of violence rehearsed and acted right in front of him in vivid splash of colors.

 

It's hard to get those thoughts out of one's head, it's hard to forget the terrible things he has to experience every day through the eyes of his mind: and a part of him wonders if he's not dissecting Hannibal and their relationship like this just because it's his most immediate approach. If he not seeing darkness I him because he is so used to find it he almost expects it.

 

Hannibal has secrets, he knows this: but maybe he's letting his imagination run too far.

 

He wants at least to believe that.

 

The rest of the morning is mostly uneventful, except for the visit to the lab to go see the science team, that leaves Tiny at the same time a little shaken, but excited. 

 

“Daddy, why is it so cold here? And it's all so white and grey! I don't think I like it...”

 

She clings to him as he gently kisses her cheek and her forehead, rubbing her back gently as he carries her through the corridors. There's no atrocious smell of decaying corpses, thank God, no horrifying sights on the tables: but the whole place reeks of disinfectant and the lights are so bright they make every corner unsettling.

 

“I don't like it much down here either, Sharky. But once we'll be with Beverly and the others it'll be less scary, I promise.”

 

And he was right, of course: because Aleksandra is easy to distract, especially when she's surrounded by people she likes and that shower her with compliments. Will smiles at Beverly and manages to relax a little as he observes her hugging both Price and Zeller and allowing the latter to take her up so he can show her around the room.

 

“My God, she grew up so much since we last saw her!”

 

“Yeah, children tend to do that, Jimmy.”

 

Price snorts, as he keeps Zeller under his watchful eye as the other man shows Tiny all the bottles and vials they keep in there, to which she replies with little excited sounds of wonder, nodding seriously and internalizing all these new information.

 

“I must admit I'm not fond of them, of children I mean. My twin has five of them: I'll be kind to you and let you imagine the Christmas dinners instead of actually describing them. But Aleksandra is charming and quiet enough: looks more and more like you, Will. Thankfully she only seems to be taking your best sides.”

 

He manages to genuinely laugh at that harmless teasing. Beverly nods, pleased by his good mood: Will doesn't really hang out with them, except for her, and it took years for the two men to stop looking at him suspiciously and with a hint of not much concealed dislike. But it's better now and he can relax.

 

“Daddy, there are so many weird things here. It's like when we go to the dentist and he has all those scary stuff on his table. Do you know how to use all of these?”

 

She seems genuinely impressed and keeps looking around herself mesmerized: she can't see what all these objects really are, what purpose they serve. His heart races and his throat closes up for a second when Zeller sits her on one of the clean autopsy tables: those are wires he doesn't want to cross in his mind; the image of Tiny, so full of life and so innocent, associated with death and monsters. But he manages to stay calm and to smile to her not to make her worry.

 

“Most of them, yeah. It takes many, many years to learn all these things, you know? A lot of patience and dedication. That's why Beverly, Brian and Jimmy are so special for us: because they know so many things we don't and it helps us solve crimes. Amazing, isn't it? Are you still scared of being here?”

 

Aleksandra takes a deep breath and puts her head against his chest when he approaches and hugs her: he's aware of people looking at the two of them, at their display of affection, but can't bring himself to be bothered by it, because his focus is entirely on her.

 

“A little bit: but it's okay. It's also really interesting. You do such an important and difficult job, daddy!”

 

Will kisses her forehead and lulls her in his arms: it's amazing how much she can pick up and understand of him, how in tune they seem to be. She sees his distress and reacts by trying to comfort him in any way she can find. There's a stab of guilt that runs through his heart, making him winch: he had to grow up too quickly, to leave his childhood behind to embrace a sudden adulthood he still isn't sure he's been able to handle, and he doesn't want that for her at all.

 

Living with violence every day of his life, being haunted and followed by it at all times, taught him how important innocence is, and that it must be protected and treasured: sometimes, even now after all these years, he watches Aleksandra as she sleeps like he used to do right after her birth; the sight of her gives him strength, shields him from the monsters that cling to his skin.

 

“She's such a good kid; you should be proud of her.”

 

Beverly smiles at him while she walks them back to his classroom; they're a little removed from Tiny, who's ahead of them, and he sighs deeply, still feeling slightly messed up by their visit at the lab and full of conflicting feelings. 

 

“I am; I just not as proud of myself as a father. I want so desperately to protect her, to give her what I could never have: but making the right choices isn't easy and I never know where I'm putting my feet. It feels like there's quicksand all around me and one misstep could kill me. Or mess her up, in this case.”

 

“Well, that's the definition of having kids, I fear. But you're a great parent; it's just that your self esteem is shit, champ.”

 

He laughs out loud at that; he vaguely nods, and her genuine and crass humor manages to somehow put him in a slightly better mood, though the thought of having to confront Jack soon is not exactly something pleasant to look forwards to. 

 

"Thanks, Bev."

 

"You know, my dad is a little bit like you: always worried about not being good enough with us, worrying too much, constantly questioning his abilities as a parent. But what I think is that if you're asking yourself all that, you're already doing a far better job at caring for your kid than most. You put her first: that's a lot, Will. Don't forget that."

 

Will wonders if he should already call Hannibal, to see what he's doing, if he'd be willing to looking after Tiny; but his pride holds him back. He's not used to ask for help, to rely on other people: and just the thought of doing it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Like Alana said, he's stubborn, way too much at times.

 

But he still closes his eyes and tries to imagine him in his office, carefully and professionally handling a patient with his standard smile plastered all over his face, the one where his face can move according to his wishes, but his eyes speak loud enough to make Will realize how far away he actually is. A smile reaches his lips again at the idea of him bored, but unable to show is, allowing his mind to run away freely.

 

He's never like that with them: he's always completely absorbed in whatever they're saying or doing, like a vulture desperate to devour its prey whole, without leaving anything behind, not wasting any part of the carcass he's feeding on. Will rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to chase away those morbid thoughts. He wants to hear his voice, to feel even the faintest amount of his presence next to him, and how strong and sudden this desire is leaves him confused and excited at the same time.

 

“What are you working on, Sharky? Are you making a special drawing? You look so focused.”

 

Tiny nods, as she carefully chooses a new pencil and continues her work.

 

“Yes, I'm making this for uncle Jack. So maybe he'll be happy and let you go home! Do you like it, daddy? That's uncle Jack holding auntie Bella's hand, and that's their house. Is it cute?”

 

Will kisses her temple and makes her giggle.

 

“It's beautiful, Sharky. Really.”

 

Tiny nods, pride shining on her face.

 

“I'll make one for Hannibal too.”

 

She's still very young, but he can already tell she has a gift for drawing, unlike him. Even though they're not perfect, there's elegance and gentleness in what she puts on paper that never fails to mesmerize him, to leave him at the same time in awe and worried.

 

Because her other parent was an amazing artist as well, and that's the most striking side they share: Will sometimes remembers those first and only weeks of their relationship that weren't a nightmare, when he believed he had found a nice person to drown his sorrows with.

 

Will has such vivid memories of the drawings hanging on the walls, of how he explained that he designed all his tattoos himself, the meaning of each one while Will lied next to him with his fingers brushing the skin, then covering them with longing kisses. But there is no rosy tint in that, no nostalgia for what could've been.

 

He was clinging to a body back them, he needed someone physically close: there were never feelings on his part. But he still got too close and had to pay for the consequences of his choices, with the sick obsession his attentions initiated and that he had to get rid of in drastic ways, that didn't turn violent only because he managed to play it smart. Aleksandra was the only good thing that came out of that mess, as far as he's concerned.

 

A whisper in his head makes him wonder if the reason why he has been thinking more and more about the past, about the man he had Tiny with, it's because she's getting older: soon, she might start asking questions, and Will dreads it, because he has no idea what he could even say to explain her what happened, why she doesn't have two parents like all the other children at her school.

 

Aleksandra never knew the pain of the separation, of the breaking up of a family the way he did: he has such a vivid and terrible memory of his mother walking out of the door, never to return, of the shame and guilt that followed. He blamed himself for years for that, for being a bad son and forcing her to leave: it broke something inside of him, tampered his vision of the world and his ability to trust others: something that he never managed to repair and that, like a ghost limb, still hurts from time to time.

 

He's glad his daughter was spared that.

 

No, that's not quite right: he made sure to erase her other parent from her life before she was even born, to spare her any kind of pain, to protect her against that presence. At least he's sure he made the right decision on that front, but can't know how she'll react to this gap in her life once she'll be older.

 

But there's another possible explanation for these recurring thoughts, and it's an idea that slowly starts to slither inside his brain, making its way to the front and whispering into his ear: maybe he's thinking so much about what he left behind, because of Hannibal.

 

The man is starting to have a bigger and bigger role in their lives, sliding comfortably in the role that no one ever occupied before: he's by his side, learning how to care for Tiny, gaining their trust, winning their affection with his elaborate gestures that are at the same time genuine and artistically constructed. And they make Will hope, they make him desire a different kind of family for him and Aleksandra.

 

One that would include him too.

 

It's hard for him to imagine growing to trust Hannibal so much to allow him so much power in their lives: yet, when he looks at how things are evolving between them, it almost seems inevitable. Hannibal wants him so desperately: Will can read it in his eyes, and the fact that he does reciprocate that same desire is frightening for him, because he's no longer used to have anyone else in his life other than his child.

 

He imagines Hannibal living with them, sharing every moment of their lives and getting to be there while Aleksandra grows: it's still just a dream, but something that it's becoming more and more solid.

 

What still holds him back are the secrets he keeps and his desire to protect Aleksandra: but things might change.

 

Very slowly, he caresses Tiny's hair.

 

“Tiny, am I a good dad?”

 

The little girl stops drawing at looks at him, squinting a little as confusion floods her, leaving her in silence, not sure what to reply. Will sighs, bites his lips and feels stupid for asking such a question to his own small child: but doubts have been crushing him with their weight, pressing right between his shoulder blades and cutting off his breath, leaving him gasping for air. 

 

“I know it can be difficult to have a dad like me, that sometimes I make you worry and I shouldn't, because I'm the one who should worry about you, not the other way around. Daddy tries as hard as he can, and loves you more than anything in the world. You know that right? Nothing could ever change that, nothing in the whole universe. You're my baby and you will always be.”

 

Will kisses her hands and places a kiss on her forehead, observing her as she analyzes his words and decides what to reply. She's so beautiful, so small, and he'd give up his whole life for her. No matter how much desire he feels for Hannibal, he knows she comes first.

 

“I know that, daddy. I love you so much too! Are you sad? Don't be sad! You're the best daddy ever and I want only you, okay? Don't be sad, daddy!”

 

Tiny holds him and he does the same, kissing and hugging her until he feels in control of his feelings once again, letting her love healing the wounds inside his heart. 

 

“I won't be sad anymore, okay? I promise.”

 

Aleksandra smiles and takes a deep breath, letting out a sound of relief. They stay like this for a long time. 

 

\-----

 

Of all the people in their lives, the last one to manage to have a significant role was Jack: Will had to overcome his hostility towards the man, his distrust for him and his methods, and it took years for them to acquire the uneasy friendship they have now.

 

He probably passed some of it onto to Tiny, because even now she's a little wary of him, shy and awkward in ways she's only with strangers. But when the man sees them enter his office, he smiles at the child and boasts out a sincere and honest laugh, moving quickly to welcome them.

 

“Well, well, well: the princess of the FBI finally returns!”

 

Aleksandra smiles and flushes, looking at him and still holding his hand tightly: but she relaxes when Jack kisses the top of her head and caresses her face with his big hands. She can't help hugging him, allowing him settle her in his arms and placing a big kiss on her cheek.

 

“Uncle Jack, I missed you!”

 

Will, from his corner, observes as they chitchat for a while, as Jack, who's usually as uptight as they go, loosens up and gifts Aleksandra with a genuine smile. He's a good man, a terribly determinate and implacable one, who would do anything to get what he wants. But also one who genuinely cares for others, who wants justice and is capable of great generosity.

 

People are never one thing, Will realized a long time ago: they are complicated and you must take them for what they are, with their good and bad sides.

 

“Uncle Jack, I made something for you! Look, this is you and this is auntie Bella, and you two are holding hands. Daddy said it looked good, but I'm not sure. Do you like it?”

 

Jack sits at his desk with Tiny on his lap, gently caressing the drawing and nodding appreciatively. He always handles her with care, sometimes with some hints of a condescending tone in his voice, but mostly he knows how to charm her.

 

“It's beautiful. I can't wait to show it to Bella. I'm sure it's gonna look wonderful on our fridge.”

Sometimes, during the quiet times when Will can focus on his expressions and reactions without him noticing, Hannibal reminds him of Jack: they're both capable of honesty and manipulation at the same time, juggling expertly between the two and making sure they can make the most out of any situation. They're opportunistic in a blunt and nearly transparent way, that if on one hand makes it easy to spot, on the other it's incredibly insidious. 

 

But while he knows perfectly well what Jack's true aims are, he's still not sure about Hannibal's. Jack wants to save lives, to catch killers and put them behind bars, where he thinks they belong. And if to achieve that he has to push Will around, use him until he's left spent and brittle, they both know he will. 

 

Will resents him for that, but at the same time knows he'll never quit, because saving people is important for him as well, and in his own way, he's equipped to fight his nightmares. And he knows Jack cares, though at times the man makes it hard to believe that. 

 

They're stubborn in the same way, and that's why they're still friends despite everything. 

 

Hannibal, on the other hand, is still a mystery to him, in both an exciting and an unsettling way, and he's not sure what to make of that, of the fact that despite his empathy and his efforts he still cannot understand him, and that that ignorance gives him such a deep and nearly erotic thrill. 

 

He's so fiercely curious, wants to peel back one by one all the layers the protect him and expose what he's hiding, watching him naked and desperate under him. 

 

He's attractive to him because he's a question mark, an enigma he intends to solve. 

 

"So no school for a while, eh? Do you like being here at work with your dad? Very interesting stuff isn't it?"

 

Aleksandra puts down her sippy cup and nods at Jack, while she plays a little with the pens and papers on the desk: she can't sit with her hands still just like him, and he knows it's something people can find unnerving, but he never stops her or reprimands her for her little habits. He lets her develop at her own pace. 

 

Jack doesn't seem to mind either, though he does make sure the child heard him, because of the silence that follows. Aleksandra thinks long and hard about her answers, because she so rarely speaks up and doesn't want to say something wrong. He can relate to that in more than one way. 

 

"There is so much to explore, yes, and Beverly showed me all kinds of weird things in the lab, I liked that. But I don't really like this place, it's a little scary: daddy is very brave because he's not afraid to work here. I would be, but I'm just little." 

 

Will laughs and smiles at her, gently caressing her soft curls and then placing a little kiss on them. Jack observes them with an indulgent look on his face that he can't figure out if it's condescending or not. In doubt, he chooses to believe it's not. 

 

"That's true; your father is a very brave man who saved many lives and helped many people. You should be very proud of him: he always does his duty."

 

He knows Jack can tell he's not there only on a social call, but to ask him something. The man knows when he's being played and subtly manipulated, and responds by making it obvious to Will. 

 

He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes: it's hard to deal with all these different influences on his and Aleksandra's life, to keep them under control. Sometimes he's sure the weight of them will crush them someday. 

 

They leave Tiny at the desk and go get a cup of coffee, with Jack quietly waiting for him to expose himself. 

 

"Listen, I know we have that budget meeting today, but I'd really appreciate it if you let me skip it, as a personal favor. I really don't want to keep Aleksandra here all afternoon, she'll start getting nervous and restless. You don't need me anyway, you can handle Prurnell."

 

Jack smiles, and this time he slips into it as much sugar-coated sympathy as he can, in a way that reminds him of Hannibal's stock and indulgent look, the one that hides his true self. It makes shiver, so he looks away. 

 

"I can handle her, yeah: but she wants the whole squad present so she can properly grill me about the "excessive expenses of our team" in front of all my subordinates. She'd probably make me call you back here even if I told you to go."

 

He expected that answer, and sometimes he can't help but cursing how his imagination takes away even the smallest hint of anticipation and hope from some situations. He takes off his glasses and sighs deeply, to which Jack replies with a sympathetic smile. 

 

"If I could avoid having an audience to my own humiliation, trust me, I would. But it's not up to me."

 

"I know, but it doesn't exactly make me feel better or helps me in any way. But thanks anyway. I'll sort it out somehow."

 

At times, Jack tries to act almost fatherly towards him, as if it could help strengthening the hold he has on him and make him more receptive to his needs and manipulations: like a leash to better control him. But he's not a father, while Will is: he knows what it's like and lives it every day of his life, while Jack merely puts on an act; and that's why that particular approach very rarely pays off.

 

Will allows him to believe it works because at least it's easy to handle. 

 

Now Will is just too tired to argue or fight against him, so he just says nothing and drinks his coffee in silence. 

 

Jack sighs, doing the same. 

 

"You don't have to leave Aleksandra alone: she's so quiet I'm sure Kade won't mind you keeping her with you."

 

Will nods vaguely, but inside himself he already knows what he has to do, because the last thing he wants is having his daughter assist to the acrimonious power battle between Prurnell and Jack. Once again, he pictures Hannibal in his study, surrounded by the rich decor, by the carefully built relaxed feeling of the room: he sees his smile if he closes his eyes and Will caresses it with the tip of his fingers inside his mind, gently feeling the imaginary texture of it. 

 

He takes Aleksandra back to the private teachers' room and sits with her like they did in the morning, with the child lying on his chest half asleep. He only has about an hour before the next class starts and inside himself knows that unless he does it know, he's never going to again. 

 

She looks so small and fragile like that, so easy to bend and break; once again he's flooded by memories of her infancy and they strengthen his resolve. 

 

"Hey, Sharky: shall we call Hannibal?"

 

Tiny's only reply is her bright, beautiful smile.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a long time to update once again! But this chapter is very, very long and it took time to come out as desired. ^_^  
> As usual, thank you for all the kudos & comments, and let me know what you think of this new one!

Hannibal Lecter likes to consider himself a very patient man, one that doesn't mind staying in the dark and quietly waiting for things to unfold at their own pace, instead of having to force them. And it brings a smile to his lips when he sees his efforts rewarded in satisfying ways.

 

Since his first meeting with the Grahams, he has been conflicted between trying to inject himself forcefully into their life more and more, and wait for Will to be the one to invite him in. And choosing the second option and remaining on the sidelines while the other man carefully evaluated and weighed him was not easy.

 

He had the constant desire to try to speed things up and it was hard to pull back, to be patient and wait for all the right occasions to present themselves. But now, he realizes it was the only possible way to go.

 

Will and Aleksandra are extremely close knitted, ready to reject all the outsiders they don't like and form a fort around themselves that no one can break down. He's intrigued by the secrets they keep, by what made Will so wary and suspicious, so unwilling to trust strangers, but he knows that he has to go slowly.

 

And in the end, it paid off exactly like he wanted it to.

 

Hannibal is in his office, half lost in his thoughts about what to cook for the Grahams on their next meeting, half finishing to update his journals, when Will calls him. He recognizes the number and smiles to himself.

 

“Hello?”

 

He's not surprised when the first voice he hears is Aleksandra's, and the image of the little girl excitedly greeting him makes him smile even more, filling him with a deep longing, making him wish he could see her face.

 

“Hannibal! Hello! How are you? I'm with daddy at work! What are you doing?”

 

Hannibal laughs under his breath, relaxing against his chair.

 

“Hello, Aleksandra, what a pleasure it is to hear your voice. I am quite good, thank you for asking. I was finishing some paperwork, nothing as fancy as what I am sure you are doing. Is your father there with you?”

 

Will's muffled laugh reaches his ears a few seconds later, and he can picture the scene so clearly and perfectly, like a snapshot behind his eyelids: Aleksandra sitting on her father's lap while he gently rocks her into his arms. 

 

“Hey there, I hope we didn't bother you...”

 

“Never, Will. You two actually rescued me from intense boredom. Is Aleksandra enjoying Quantico? I imagine it must be exciting to be there and be able to explore such a different place.”

 

Tiny and Will whisper something to each other for a second, but it doesn't reach him.

 

“It's okay, a little scary though. I saw a lot of nice, new stuff, but I want to go home now! But daddy still has a lot of work to do and can't get away from it, because he has many responsibilities. But I wish we could just leave!”

 

Hannibal senses the opportunity to turn the situation to his advantage right away, in the faint hopefulness in Tiny's voice, in the way Will's sighs and gently tells her that he's sorry about the distress he's causing her. The fact that, apparently, the man trusts him enough to let his daughter share these things with him, says a lot about the level of intimacy they are reaching.

 

His practiced and apparently perfect mask probably can't fool Will completely, because he knows better and never loses a chance to remind him that he can see the cracks and the dark sides of it, but it doesn't seem to stop him.

 

He smiles again.

 

“I can understand that. Isn't there anyone who could take her home and watch her for a while?”

 

Will sighs again and clears his throat awkwardly. Hannibal licks his lips, already savoring the words that are going to come out of his mouth. In a sense, he expects them, but it's another victory and it's no less sweet.

 

“Actually... we were wondering if you could look after Aleksandra for a few hours while I'm stuck here. My usual babysitter can't make it, and... I'm not exactly very social: all the people I know work here too. There's this budget meeting I really can't miss, and I'd really appreciate the help... but you don't have to say yes. I know this is sudden, and don't worry- I'll understand if you'll say no.”

 

But Aleksandra contradicts him a moment later, interrupting him with her candid and honest voice.

 

“Please, Hannibal, please! Can you come? I don't want to stay here.”

 

Even though he already knows what his answer will be, he smiles to himself, relaxing against the chair and entertaining different train of thoughts while Will and Aleksandra wait for his reply.

 

He could tell Will he cannot make it, bringing up a work emergency that would remind the man that these are still his working hours, subtly making him feel guilty for even considering this option. Hannibal wonders how much this would set back their relationship, because it would make Will painfully less inclined to ask for his help again.

 

And he'd risk to let down Aleksandra, something he really cannot afford.

 

“Are you sure you trust me enough?”

 

Will sighs, and it's filled with such hope and a huge desire to give into that feeling, that even Hannibal remains star-struck for a moment. 

 

He keeps wanting to be closer to Will, to completely occupy that empty space by his side that exists in his life, but hasn't consider that, perhaps, his goal is far closer than he originally thought. It sends a shot of adrenaline through his whole body, and he can't help the grin the spreads on his face.

 

It's a good thing that they cannot see it, or Will might start question just what kind of interest Hannibal has in him.

 

The man tells Tiny that he needs to talk to Hannibal in private, assuring the little girl that she'll be able to say goodbye before he hangs up. They are alone after that, and Hannibal licks his lips, wishing he could taste the air around him, the doubts that move in his head, experience how it would smell on his skin. But all he can do is imagine it.

 

“Do I have any reason not to?”

 

“That is up to you, I think. You made me promise I would always try to look after Aleksandra while she is in my care, that I would protect and take care of her: I firmly intend to keep that promise. But whether or not you believe me, that is another story.”

 

He hears Will's laugh, and how lighthearted and amused it sounds, carves a deep longing inside of him, a desire to replay it in his head over and over. He's so full of raw need for him that sometimes it's hard to contain it.

 

“Always so good with words... spinning and shifting every one of them so that I end up being the one who's exposed in front of you...”

 

“I won't deny it. I enjoy this little game we play.”

 

The man on the phone sighs, and for a long moment, Hannibal holds his breath.

 

“Look, I'm honest: you don't have to come if you're busy or just don't feel like taking on such a responsibility. I know it's a lot to ask you to take care of my daughter like this. I'm not trying to test you and I don't want to force you. I want all the time you spend with Tiny to be honest and good for both of you.”

 

Hannibal considers his words as a hint of pride and warmth spreads inside of him. Will already understands him better than anyone ever could before, and this is an earthshaking revelation to him, something that hits him right in the deep desire he feels for the two of them.

 

His affection for them, especially for Aleksandra, is as genuine as it is manipulative. It's about satisfying his curiosity, but also about pleasing the two of them, enjoying them in the most honest way he can.

 

“Do you trust me, Will?”

 

The man laughs softly.

 

“I trust you. You know I do, especially when Tiny is concerned. I know you'd never hurt her or put her in danger. I want so desperately to believe that. As for everything else... I'm still not sure. But on this, I am. So, what do you say? Are up to the task?”

 

Hannibal, in the depth of his mind, where he keeps his darkest thought and his most treasured memories, has a room dedicated to the Grahams. There he gently places this conversation, the mental image of Will's delicate smile and hushed voice as he says all this.

 

He pictures himself running his fingers on his face, taking Aleksandra into his arms and being allowed inside their family. 

 

“I will be there in about an hour.”

 

\-----

 

The Grahams are waiting for him outside the building, with Aleksandra already wrapped in her little coat and waiting for him sitting on Will's lap, as he's gently caressing her hair and holding her go-bag.

 

The little girl runs into Hannibal's arms when she sees him, while her father softly smiles and takes his time watching him as he picks her up and places a little kiss on her forehead. She's a delicate weight in his hold, safely secured against his body and completely at ease. Her little frown disappears right away, leaving behind just her smile.

 

“I'm so glad you're here, Hannibal!”

 

“I am too. I hope I did not take too long. Is everything all right?”

 

Will nods, gently caressing his daughter's back, though his eyes are completely on him: there's a complicit look that passes between them, as the man smiles and relaxes in Hannibal's presence, like it's lifting something off his shoulders, leaving him easy going and playful in ways he probably never is while he's at work.

 

Hannibal knows how plagued by nightmares and monsters Will is, and that the sharp, ugly building behind them is one of the theaters of the horrors that play inside his head at all times. So seeing him like this, partially because of him, leaves a sweet taste in his mouth, the hope of something far deeper and more important coming in the future.

 

Sometimes, Hannibal still looks at them like they are a peculiar and fascinating experiment he's attempting, to see if he can manage to gain their trust, to become a part of their family and see how far this can go before Will realizes just who he's letting in, how much he'll be able to see and what will happen next. Everything can be a game for him, but most of the times, the other people involved don't know they're playing. And the results are always in his favor.

 

But the frightening realization hits him while he watches Aleksandra relax against his shoulder like she has known him her whole life and belongs there, with her soft curls brushing against his neck, her soft smile and her innocence, as Will approaches them and instantly relaxes. The realization is that what he's starting to desire is to be part of their world because he can make them happy, fill a void that has been left vacant for too long.

 

Hannibal takes a very deep breath, as he catches Will looking at him with an amused frown on his face. He takes that flash of clarity into his hands, storing it safely inside himself: the Grahams wormed their way inside of him, a lot more than the other way around. They filled him with hopes, with new challenges that he's determined to win, they make him crave experiences and feelings he never even considered wanting: they're dangerous, and yet he's stubbornly throwing himself head first into their arms.

 

Will smiles again, like somehow he was able to understand the flow of his thoughts. Hannibal fears that one day he might just do exactly that, exposing his secret, his weaknesses and do with them whatever he wants.

 

“We are okay, yeah. A little tired, though, right? It has been a long day, and sadly it isn't over yet.”

 

Tiny nods, clinging to him as she rubs her eye and tries to suppress a yawn. 

 

“I'm hungry and I want to go home! Can we go, Hannibal? Please?”

 

“Of course; I'm ready whenever you two are.”

 

Will nods and takes Aleksandra from him, kissing her cheek as gently as he can before settling her back on the bench they were occupying, before going back to Hannibal with his bag. Hannibal can tell that, if he had a choice, he'd leave too: a part of him wants to ask, paint himself as the knight in a shining armor, ready to rescue him from his distress; but Will might see it as an intrusion, so he keeps quiet for the time being.

 

“So, this is the bag with all her things. There's her water, a change of clothes, some toys... she can go to the bathroom by herself of course, but if you take her somewhere unfamiliar she might be too shy to go alone, so just walk her to the ladies' room. She'll be fine then but make sure she washes her hands.”

 

Hannibal smiles, delighted by the softness he hears in Will's voice, high on the trust he's placing in him. He's willing to let him take care of the most important person in his life, and Hannibal knows that being up to that task is not going to be easy.

 

“I am sure she will be. I was thinking that I could take her home and make dinner. At least she'll be able to rest a little in the comfort of her own room. But I do not want to overstep...”

 

Will considers the proposal for a while, biting his lips nervously, not sure if he's absolutely sure he wants to go as far as letting Hannibal take possession of his house as well. Hannibal understands that far too well, that is why he carefully measured every word, made sure to say only the right ones. 

 

He and Will share more traits than he expected when he first met him. They're so protective of their own personal spaces, so reluctant to let strangers cross certain boundaries, and even though they try to put on a mask of affability, they remain wary and vigilant. 

 

In the end, Will takes a deep breath and gives him his key.

 

“You don't have to trouble yourself with dinner, you're already doing a lot, honestly. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you somehow...”

 

Very slowly, as if Will was a deer he did not want to startle, Hannibal takes his hand and caresses it, holding it in his own and massaging the skin. the man sighs and smiles, relaxing under his touch. Hannibal wishes he could kiss him, press him against the wall and ravish him, take possession of his body as well as of every other aspect of his life.

 

He's hungry for Will, for the contact between their bodies, and always having to pull back is starting to feel physically painful to him.

 

“I am only doing what I want to do, Will. You know how much I enjoy taking care of the two of you. Trust me on this, please.”

 

Will smiles and closes his eyes when Hannibal dares caress his cheek, making sure Tiny is not looking at them in that moment: he looks so beautiful, like he's wrapped in a golden and mysterious light of peace that, probably, only exists behind his eyes. 

 

He's determined to have Will, all of him, and if he has to wait years to achieve that, he's willing to do even that. How strong his resolution is, frightens him for a moment; but then he smiles.

 

“I guess I'll see you two at home, then.”

 

\-----

 

Following a lengthy goodbye between father and daughter, and after Will has successfully installed and settled Tiny in her booster seat, the girl and Hannibal are finally ready to leave. He looks at her in the rear-view mirror to make sure she's relaxed and comfortable, and sees her cradle her stuffed shark close to her chest, as she tries to adjust to the new and unfamiliar settings.

 

She doesn't look scared, but Hannibal can imagine she might be a little nervous. There is always a hint of fragility about her, maybe because of how small and delicate she is, that gives him the impression that he could break her if he handled her too roughly. 

 

“Are you alright, Tiny?”

 

The child stares at him and nods, relaxing against the back of the seat while kicking her legs a little, struggling against the safety belts holding her in place.

 

“Yes, I am. You have a very nice car, Hannibal! Did it cost a lot of money?”

 

“Yes, it did. But sometimes, when we really like something, we are willing to pay a considerable amount to get it. Do you agree?”

 

She thinks on it for a while, looking at her new dress, at her obviously not cheap shoes, but without really understanding their value because of her age. Will is known to spend far more on her and on her well being than he does for his own, and Aleksandra is smart enough to catch hints of it despite her youth. She sighs deeply.

 

“I guess so.”

 

Hannibal smiles to her in the most reassuring way he can manage, and watches her smile back shyly. There's something naturally endearing about her— maybe it's her sad, melancholic expression, her deep, blue eyes or how she's capable of charming everyone around her without even really trying. 

 

Will is the same, but in a much more subtle and raw way: he shines brightly like a diamond in a world of vulgarity and ugliness, he stands out with his tormented soul, with his innate goodness and with the monsters he keeps chained at the bottom of his heart. 

 

And Hannibal is so deeply captivated by his savage and unrefined beauty that he cannot bring himself to look away.

 

Thoughts seems to be completely escaping his control today, taking unexpected turns and pouring all into him at once, to the point where he struggles to make sense of them. Very carefully, he removes them all one by one, knowing he's just delaying the eventual flood, and finally forces himself to focus entirely on Aleksandra.

 

“Are you comfortable back there? Do you need anything?”

 

“I'm just a little hungry, but I'm okay!”

 

He nods, as they drive through the city and then exit it to go in the direction of Wolf Trap. 

 

The sun is starting to set, but it's not dark yet. They still have a couple of hours before darkness and he's determined to make the most of them. Aleksandra is fascinated by how the world outside her window looks in the different light, and Hannibal smiles to himself.

 

“Then I suggest we go eat something. Would something sweet be okay?”

 

The little girl claps her hands excitedly in response. He took the time to research a good place to take her for a quick afternoon snack. She stops in front of the little tea house with absolute fascination in her eyes, staring at the carefully decorated building in awe.

 

Hannibal holds her hand safely, smiling down on her and giving her time to explore it with her eyes before they finally enter: a delicious scent of vanilla, flour, chocolate and other ingredients reaches his nostrils, making him instantly relax, filling his mind with memories of his nearly forgotten youth.

 

Aleksandra instantly starts bolting towards the counter, where a fine selection of cakes and other kinds of sweets is exposed, but she stops in her tracks and runs back to hide behind him when an elderly woman in her seventies approaches them with a welcoming smile on her wrinkly face. 

 

He takes an instant like in her, for some reason.

 

“Good afternoon, sir! And to you, little lady. May I ask you your name?”

 

She looks up to him and Hannibal nods encouragingly, taking her hand and guiding her in front of their hostess. Tiny munches on her lips for a few seconds, not looking the lady in the eyes.

 

“I'm Aleksandra. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Oh! What a beautiful name you have! It has such a beautiful meaning as well, and I imagine you already know it, right?”

 

She nods, becoming more at ease with the lady as time passes, while Hannibal observes them carefully and memorizes her reactions, her words and how attached she's becoming to him: he makes her feel safe, and this gives him an unexpected amount of power.

 

“Yes, it means 'to protect'. And my daddy is called William.”

 

The lady laughs.

 

“So beautiful indeed, you have a very interesting name as well, sir.”

 

“Oh, I am not her father. I'm just a family's friend looking after her for the day. My name is Hannibal.”

 

She nods, while Aleksandra's attention is captured again by the food right in front of her, her stomach murmuring, and she pets it, slight embarrassed. The owner gently caresses her hair, making her giggle and blush, before she leaves them to their choices. 

 

And after a long deliberation and much indecision, he and Aleksandra finally sit down comfortably by the window, with two pieces of different cakes and a glass of milk in front of the girl, and a coffee paired with a simple slice of cherry pie for him.

 

Like her father, Aleksandra digs eagerly into her food, without paying too much attention to it or taking too long to properly taste the different flavors and textures. She prefers to take care of her hunger first, and only after a few mouthful, she slows down to appreciate what's in her plate. 

 

However, she lacks Will's urgency: the man is good at containing himself, but to a fellow survivor of intense and lasting lack of food like Hannibal is, the subtle fear that the food might be taken away any second and that he'll be left empty handed to starve is apparent in his eyes.

 

Hannibal wonders what kind of childhood Will had to become like this. He relates to it, of course, thanks to his many years spent with minimal food, and sometimes not even that, in a Soviet orphanage. He sees the lasting effects of that on himself as well: he over-shops, cooks too much for a single person, organizes lavish dinner parties not only to share the spoils of his crimes, but also to show off the opulence he can afford now.

 

It's like he can't stop himself from hoarding and safely storing away what he thinks might disappear and never be in his possession ever again.

 

Apparently, Will decided to work through his childhood traumas by concentrating on his daughter, making sure she's always well fed and satisfied. It's endearing, in that sweet, but slightly odd way the Grahams have of being a family. 

 

He makes a mental note to teach the two of them how to properly appreciate food. That will be interesting.

 

After the girl has finished her first slice and asks for a second glass of milk, he decides it's finally time to focus on her again. She has a sweet smile on her face when she looks to up him, and Hannibal gently kisses the top of her head.

 

“So, how come you did not like the FBI? Wasn't it not exciting to see where you father works?”

 

Tiny takes a very deep breath and lets out an equally long sigh, and Hannibal can imagine her kicking her legs under the table, while she plays a little with the food in her plate and reaches out to grab her stuffed shark for comfort like she always does. Her little habits are left to develop, to form and grow together with her personality. 

 

Will understands the necessity of a support structure for his child better than most parents, and it shows in how well-balanced she is despite her shyness.

 

“I'm not sure why, it just gave me a bad feeling. I know daddy has to investigate bad things in there, and I know he doesn't like that place. So I didn't like it too! It felt scary. I just wanted me and daddy to get away from there and go home so we could be okay.”

 

Hannibal acknowledges her words with a little nod, then he empties his cup of coffee and inhales slowly.

 

“You feelings are understandable, I believe. You know your father is a man who has many responsibilities: those come, sometimes, at a heavy price. But you are a very sensitive child who can understand right away when he's distressed, and you worry about him: that is normal.”

 

Tiny sighs and looks away from him, keeps playing a little with the food in her plate, running the fork's ribs back and forth into the soft whipped cream, then licking it away. Her face assumes that solemn frown that makes her look slightly older, and concentrated on something no one can truly understand.

 

“I just want my daddy to be okay.”

 

“And you think that he's not when he goes to work at the FBI?”

 

She shakes her head, but manages to giggle a little when he gently wipes away a residue of cream from the corner of her mouth with a napkin. She thinks long and hard about her reply, like she's struggling to find the right words and isn't sure how to translate her feelings into words. 

 

Sometimes he tends to forget she's just a child.

 

“He looks sad and scared there; when he comes home too. I know he has an important job to do, that he's very brave and doesn't mind it, but... he's my daddy and I want him to be happy and safe! I love him very much.”

 

Hannibal caresses her hair gently, running his fingers through her soft curls, that look and feel so much like Will's. She hugs him, climbing into his lap and burying her face against his neck. 

 

He takes a moment to close his eyes and allow himself to sink into that hug, into all the conflicting emotions this family gives him, filling him with a stunting sense of uncertainty and euphoria at the same time. She clings to him because she knows he's safe for her, and wants the same for her father.

 

It's a shock for Hannibal to realize he wants the same.

 

There are moments, when a sudden lucidity hits him and he's capable of looking at himself, at what he's doing from the outside: and he sees a man walking straight off a cliff without worrying at all about it. Am I ill? Is this why I am doing all this? He frantically tries to find explanations for his behavior, ways to justify and make sense of it.

 

But he knows that's not the reason: he just felt desperately alone, with a dull and painful ache spreading in his chest. 

 

And now he wants the Grahams to occupy the empty spaces inside his heart.

 

“I want your father to be happy as well. Perhaps in time, he will allow me to help him on that front.”

 

The little girl looks at him with her deep, bright, earnest blue eyes. And he feels pinned down by them, dissected and exposed. Aleksandra bites her lips a little, but them smiles shyly and kisses his cheek hard enough to make him laugh.

 

“I think you like my daddy a lot!”

 

“I do, you know I do.”

 

She giggles and goes to whisper something in his ear.

 

“He likes you too! I think you should tell him, Hannibal. So he won't be scared and sad anymore.”

 

I want to do so much more than that, he thinks. 

 

I want to hold Will's life in the palm of my hands, feel his beating heart against mine and then sink inside of him, live in the depths of his chest. I want to own all of him, I want him to belong to me.

 

And I want to belong to him, to both of you. This feeling is destructive and he knows it, but now it's too late to stop.

 

He smiles to her.

 

“I promise I will try. I will do my best to make both of you very, very happy. For now, we could make him dinner. Something good that will help him relax and forget this hard day; how does that sound?”

 

The child's face lights up in delight, as she finally drops her frown and assumes a relaxed and hopeful expression.

 

“Can I help too, Hannibal?”

 

He gently caresses her head and then kisses her forehead: how far she manages to go with just her delicate smiles and her soft voice, how deeply she conquered his affections with her kindness always shocks him. He thought he could manipulate them into becoming his family, but somehow the opposite happened: now he's the one desperate for acceptance and all the power is all in their hands.

 

“I wouldn't dream of doing anything without you by my side. You're my favorite kitchen helper, remember?”

 

Aleksandra's smile is the best and sweetest answer.

 

“I love you, Hannibal.”

 

She kisses his cheek and he relaxes in her embrace; his mind, far away in the depths of his contorted feelings.

 

\-----

 

The little girl is far easier to handle that he had expected: perhaps she's too tired after such a stressful day to be as hyperactive, excited and noisy as children can usually be, but Hannibal nevertheless appreciates how she sits comfortably in the front of the cart and allows him to stroll her around without becoming restless.

 

Tiny seems to be used to it, actually, helpfully aiding him while they shop for supplies for their planned dinner. He can picture Will taking her along with him so well in his mind, the air around them filled with their hushed conversations, with their laughs and display of affections.

 

Hannibal doesn't need to buy much, wanting to make something quick and simple that will fit the atmosphere at Will's house, but he can't help giving in to a couple of her whims and buy a few things he's almost sure her father would disapprove of. She seems happy, and somehow for him that takes precedence even over his plan to gain Will's trust.

 

“I am sure you still enjoyed spending so much time with your father today, yes? You two are very close, and you like when you get to make new experiences together with him.”

 

She nods, as she observes him carefully choose vegetables and fruits to buy, amused by his unusual behavior, maybe. A soft giggle escapes her lips when he smells it.

 

“Yes, I like doing stuff with daddy. I stayed in the classroom with him, and his students were very nice! And I saw Beverly and Alana again! I like them so much because they're very kind to both me and daddy. Do you know how big daddy's classroom is, Hannibal? It's so big! So much more than mine at school.”

 

Hannibal smiles to himself at the mention of Alana Bloom. Will still has no idea they share that common friend, and perhaps one day he'll bring it up. It would be interesting to find out what kind of relationship the two have, how Will handles himself around others and in such a hostile and stressful environment.

 

“Is your father a good teacher, you think?”

 

“Of course! He's the best.”

 

Hannibal laughs softly, and caresses her head when she blushes and hides a little behind her stuffed animal. She relaxes a little, but her cheek remain flushed.

 

“Maybe one day you'll become a teacher like him. Would you like that?”

 

Tiny shakes her head after thinking on it for a moment.

 

“I want to work with sharks, I think.”

 

He nods, taking a slow, long intake of breath and finally finishing to fill the cart. He checks his mental list one more time, to see if he forgot anything, while Aleksandra rubs her eyes and yawns. She must be tired, and probably will end up falling asleep in the car while they drive back. Hannibal kisses the top of her head and the child hugs him.

 

“It's a beautiful aspiration, Tiny. I am sure your father will be supportive of you, as will I.”

 

For a moment, she looks dubious of his words like she has never been before, and Hannibal in a sense understands it. No one sticks around in a way permanent enough to make a difference in her life, and the only person she could always count on so far has been Will. 

 

He's still painfully an outsider, and it'll take a long time to chase away that feeling from her, to be truly part of this family: he must not forget this, or underestimate their bond.

 

“Are you really going to be there, Hannibal? You won't go away?”

 

“No, I can promise you that I will not. Not unless you or your father want me to.”

 

Aleksandra smiles widely.

 

“Then it's okay! Because I want you to stay forever!”

 

Hannibal has been alone for too long and lost all the people that ever meant something to him too early to really know how it feels like to be needed, to have somebody place an unquestionable and complete faith in him, especially someone as vulnerable as Tiny is. It is a dangerous thing, trust.

 

It's something so fragile that it would take nothing to break it.

 

And yet here they are: a man with too many secrets and too much blood on his hands, promising an innocent child that he will be there for her. Perhaps he miscalculated everything so far, he could not see how deadly this game he has going on with the Grahams could become for him, because he wants that promise to be true and honest and real so badly he's not sure what he could do to keep it.

 

He just hugs Aleksandra, in the end, but says nothing; and yet he still feels like he has already said too much.

 

\-----

 

Tiny is quick to fall asleep once they are on the road again, sitting there silently with her mouth slightly open and holding her toy to her chest: Hannibal pulls over to wrap a blanket around her and adjust her better in her seat, and the child moans sleepily, but doesn't wake up.

 

At the sight of her in the rear-view mirror, he cannot stop the memories that suddenly start flooding him, allowing them for once to wash over him: he remembers watching his baby sister sleeping in her crib for hours when he was a child, fascinated by her, by how frail and small she was. He never experienced the same sense of peace ever after that: the feeling of having a purpose, a well-defined role in the universe, a role to fulfill.

 

He can't say he was happy back then, that he was free of the darkness that now surrounds him: but it was different. There was a lightness about him, a bright hope for a future that didn't have to be as blood-soaked as it became: Hannibal replays her running towards him and hugging him in his mind, how it felt to be needed and loved in such a simple, immediate and genuine way.

 

It all died with her. That is a door he cannot open just yet however, the one that holds the memories of her death and of what followed.

 

He remembers her as she was when she was alive: her soft, light weight in his arms, her voice calling his name, her laugh and her hands searching his while walking.

 

Aleksandra never gave him the same feelings: he wants to look after her, but in a profoundly different way; this is a responsibility he choose, one that he pursued consciously. But it's no less visceral or strong— it's simply different in the deepest way.

 

Yet, he finds himself smile as he observes her, he can feel tranquility filling him and he understands why Will is capable of remaining so stable, so balanced and strong despite what he sees every day.

 

While his feelings towards Aleksandra are clear to him, a natural progression overtime, how he feels towards her father is completely different. It's raw and visceral in a way that sometimes frightens him with its intensity, because he's far too used to experiencing life through a thick curtain of indifference and distance that Will completely ripped apart without even noticing.

 

Hannibal wants to watch him bleed and taste him, he wants to see Will needing him with the same brutal longing he feels and that tears at his guts so painfully that he wants to grind his teeth and grab him hard enough to hurt him.

 

Hannibal can see him as he truly is, knows he would love nurture his taste for violence and blood, to push him slowly to accept the darkest part of him if he could. But then he sees him with Tiny, smiling brightly as they play together or as they both make fun of him while they're all together, and what arises inside him is the realization that he would never succeed.

 

Will is at the same time the careful, loving father who puts his daughter before anything and anyone, and the man hunted and seduced by the monsters he hunts: and he's not sure which sides attracts him more, but he knows he wants them both.

 

It was important for him to spend this afternoon alone with Aleksandra, to slip into Will's shoes for a few hours and truly understand the power that keeps him sane, that chases away the nightmares.

 

And it's all in that little girl's smile, in her goodness that spreads all around her like an infection. Hannibal wonders how immune to that he'll prove himself to be, in the end, and smiles to himself.

 

When they arrive at Wolf Trap, there's still some residual sunlight that makes the house look almost unreal. It wraps it in a soft, pastel atmosphere that reminds him of something Will told him once in his study, after storming in sweating and trembling after a particularly hard case.

 

“When I come home after work, I stop for a second in the car, look at my house to remind myself I just have to step in there, and I'll be safe: that Tiny and the dogs are waiting for me. It's probably stupid, but... it's what keeps me going through the day: knowing I have a safe place to go back to.”

 

Hannibal smiled at his words, at the fidgety, nerves racking anxiety in his features, and relished in the idea of being a safe haven for him, somewhere he could run to to unwind and purify himself from the dirt that clung to his skin during the day.

 

“You see your daughter as your anchor, and there is nothing wrong with that. She is the best part of you, after all: a light at the end of the tunnel. I cannot relate to your paternal feelings, of course, since I have no children, but I can imagine how that must feel for you, the deep emotions it gives you. And I think it's quite beautiful, Will.”

 

Will looked away from him, but with a soft smile on his lips, that told him his words hit him in the right places— and Hannibal felt proud of himself.

 

He understand why he feels like this now: the house, the fields all around it, the atmosphere that it generates is certainly soothing and peaceful. He closes his eyes for a long moment to let all those emotions soak into the texture of him, to fill him up so he can understands them, like he's cannibalizing them together with his memories and flashes of Will moving in those rooms.

 

When he's done, he winces in displeasure at the thought of waking up Aleksandra, who's deeply asleep by now: but he can already hear the dogs barking behind the closed door, rasping at it because they probably smelled their young mistress and wonder why she's not running to them as she usually does.

 

The child moans and groans, rubbing her eyes with a sad and confused expression that lasts a few moment before she can put him into focus and remember she's with him and not with her father.

 

“Hello, Tiny. You fell asleep; do you feel better now? A little less tired than before?”

 

She hugs him as he frees her from the safety belts, but leaves her still wrapped in her blanket, and nods against his neck. The barking grows louder and her eyes become more awake and present.

 

“I dreamed we were going to the beach to see the sharks, daddy was there too, you know? We all went together. It was a nice dream.”

 

“I am sure it was, and I am sorry for waking you up. I am honored I was a part of that as well. Now, lets get you inside so you can say hi to your dogs and we can change you into something a little more comfortable, yes?”

 

She nods, but then looks around, suddenly a little worried.

 

“When is daddy coming home, Hannibal? Is it going to be soon?”

 

He sits next to her in the car, keeping the child in his arms when she climbs in his lap.

 

“He's probably still busy, I do not know how long it is going to take him to come back. But after you have changed, used the toilet, washed your face and hands, and we have let out the dogs so they can get some fresh air, we will try to call him. So we can also figure out when to start making our dinner for him. Are you okay with this plan?”

 

She doesn't seem to be entirely persuaded at first, pouting a little. She's just a child: one that right now misses her father and just wishes he could be there for her. Will is lucky to have her, to have someone in his life who loves him so completely and deeply.

 

“Do you promise we'll call him?”

 

“Absolutely. I give you my word.”

 

She goes along with him fairly easily after that, holding his hand and then bolting in front of him to go hug each one of the dogs when they pool around her outside the house to welcome her home as soon as he opens the door. Her laugh is crystalline in the dying light, and even Hannibal loosens up a little bit, petting the animals as they come forward to smell him and recognize him as a familiar presence.

 

“They are not going to bite you, daddy trained them all himself, you know? That's how you know they're good dogs. They never, ever bit anyone! And don't bark too much or make too many loud noises.”

 

Tiny looks so happy surrounded by them, with a relaxed smile on her face and every trace of residual weariness chased away. She pays no attention to her new dress or to the chilly wind that is starting to blow, but keeps being completely absorbed by the animals. It's so easy to put her at ease even after such a stressful day, because she's a simple child and all it takes is being surrounded by familiar things to relax her.

 

“Your father is a very impressive man. Do you think they like me, Tiny?”

 

Hannibal runs his fingers through the fur of the friendliest of them, a mutt called Winston. He ignores the dogs' hair covering his suit and the discomfort that the feeling of being surrounded like that brings him. He puts on his best, most convincing and reassuring expression, smiling at the little girl as she thinks about his words.

 

“I think Winston likes you a lot, I'm not sure about the others... maybe they don't know you well enough!”

 

“Would some treats help?”

 

She smiles and claps her hands, nodding enthusiastically, when he takes a paper bag out and starts distributing bites of sausage made out of a particularly unpleasant taxi driver to the pack. The dogs pool around him, brushing against his legs and waggling their tails at him, clearly pleased and won over by his gesture. Hannibal feels an odd kind of satisfaction in that gesture, like he's secretly leaving an even deeper mark on Will's safe space, one the man just won't be able to realize it's there.

 

They leave the pack to their business in the bushes after another ten minutes of playing and hugs: Hannibal sits down on the porch with Tiny too, gently rubbing her back to make sure she's not cold and allowing himself to enjoy this one carefree moment in peace. It's rare for him to be able to give in to simple pleasure, to put the mask aside.

 

But he can with her, and the feeling is as fascinating as it is unsettling.

 

Then he takes Aleksandra inside, and after the child has gone to the toilet successfully, all by herself as Will told him, and she washes her face and hands carefully, Hannibal helps her into comfortable house clothes: a pair of worn out jeans and a fluffy sweater. He brushes her hair and then goes to settle her on the couch while he lights the fire; the last thing he does before going back to her, is checking on the dogs.

 

The child is waiting for him with a new drawing made specifically for him in her hands: it has him, Will and Aleksandra in front of the Wolf Trap house. Hannibal kisses the top of her head.

 

“It's really beautiful, Tiny. Thank you very much.”

 

She blushes and looks away from him, but he catches the grin on her face anyway.

 

“You're so nice to me and daddy, Hannibal.”

 

“I think it's actually the other way around, you know? You and your father allow me to join in into your family life, to take care of both of you. It's a very rare privilege, one I know for sure you two do not give out very easily, and I am thankfully for it, to be able to be a part of this little world you two share.”

 

She blinks a few times, not sure if she can believe him or not. It's so easy to be aware of how close knitted she and Will are, of how very few people have been allowed as close as he is.

 

“I think we just like you a lot. Daddy too, not just me. And we like having you around.”

 

“And that means a lot to me.”

 

Talking to her is so easy: she understands him despite her age, perhaps not perfectly, but gets what he means right away, because Hannibal can't help being honest and straightforward with her. He shreds all the layers of sophistication and pretense he usually wears, and reveals himself to Aleksandra as honestly as he can afford.

 

She hugs him and kisses his cheek in reply, and he inhales her delicate scent until he can feel his heartbeat slow down to normal a rate once again.

 

“I love you, Hannibal.”

 

He lulls her in his arms slowly: her weight is light in his hold and he feels like he doesn't want to let her go. Neither Aleksandra nor Will: it's a frightening realization, to clearly see how desperately he'd be willing to fight to ensure they stay in his life.

 

“I love you too.”

 

\-----

 

It takes a couple of failed attempts to reach Will, which somehow manages to make Tiny anxious and restless. She grabs his arm and tries to take the phone from him so she can make sure it's ringing, and Hannibal ends up putting it on speaker to calm her down enough to make another call. When her father finally answers, she lets out a long sigh of relief.

 

“Daddy! Daddy!”

 

“Hey, Sharky. What's wrong? Where's Hannibal?”

 

He sounds so tired that even from those few words, Hannibal can catch his weariness. The day has been long and for him it's not over yet; it must be nearly unbearable by now, after so many hours spent dealing with way too many people and being away from his daughter.

 

Yet, as soon as he hears her voice, Will relaxes: she truly is the balm on his battered body and soul, cheering him up no matter what. Hannibal can picture him right now: disheveled and exhausted, which is usually a very good look on him.

 

He feels the sudden and possessive need to drive all the way back to Quantico and rescue him from budget meetings and FBI agents: but of course, he keeps it under control.

 

“I am right here, Will: Aleksandra just wanted to hear from you and see how you were doing. She misses you very much.”

 

The little girl nods solemnly at him, as Will laughs and he can hear him sitting down somewhere to better talk to them.

 

“So you missed me, Sharky? Has Hannibal not been nice to you?”

 

Tiny shakes her head even though Will cannot see her.

 

“No, no! Hannibal is very nice, daddy, don't say that! It's just... I miss you, when are you coming home? Hannibal misses you too.”

 

“Soon, Sharky, I'm sorry to be taking so long. Another couple of hours at most, okay? Don't worry, daddy's okay. So, what did you and Hannibal do? Are you having fun with him?”

 

He watches Aleksandra as she lays out their day to Will in minute details: how excited she is and sounds, how she makes even the trivial things they did together special in her eyes, which is not something that happens often. Will smiles and sighs contently, relaxing even further, as his voice takes that usually sweet colored tone he reserves only to his little angel. 

 

Hannibal envies them: they can find happiness in the simplest things. For him, it's not as easy.

 

“Well, sounds like you two had lots of fun! I'm kinda jealous now.”

 

“We can do all that together another time, of course, when your workload will allow us. Including the grocery shopping.”

 

Will's laugh sounds as crystalline as Aleksandra's, and it makes his heart ache in a very peculiar way he hasn't entirely analyzed yet.

 

“Okay, Sharky, I need to go back in. I'll be back very soon, alright?”

 

“Yes, daddy. Please hurry up. I love you!”

 

Hannibal smiles fondly when Tiny sends her father a kiss through the phone.

 

“I love you too, baby shark, you have no idea how much I wish I could be there with the two of you.”

 

Tiny takes a long and deep breath as she looks up to Hannibal and smiles sadly, like she knows they both wish the same. She knows her that her father can't just run back to her and leave his work, but it's much harder for her to accept that.

 

“I know, daddy.”

 

“Hey, Sharky, do you mind if I speak with Hannibal alone for a moment?”

 

She nods and leaves them alone, getting off the couch to go pet the dogs. Hannibal hears Wills sigh deeply.

 

“I hope she's not making you sweat too much.”

 

“Not at all, she's a very good girl. I am enjoying taking care of her. You might think it could be a chore for a man like me, but it isn't. It's only a pleasure.”

 

There is a fairly long pause, during which Hannibal can tell Will's considering what to say and how to say it: there's a lot hanging between them, suspended on flimsy ropes that could break at any time, and neither of them knows how to approach it without ruining all they built so far.

 

“You don't have to say anything now, Will. There is plenty time for all that.”

 

“Hannibal. Just. Thank you for all you're doing. We'll talk when I get back.”

 

Hannibal smiles to himself: Will is a man of few words, one that prefers facts and action to them; and he cannot wait to see what he'll do and hear what he'll have to say.

 

Aleksandra is a lot more pliant and collaborative after talking to her father, while that phone call leaves him filled with a strange kind of hope, with the feeling that something important and unexpected might happen very soon.

 

Will sounded so grateful, so unbelievably indebted to him: it's an addicting sensation, something that sticks to him skin and mixes with his blood, filling him with a feeling he struggles to keep under control.

 

After they let the rest of the dogs in, he reads for Tiny: his mind is not entirely focused on her right now, but he does his best for her anyway, never forgetting she's there or pushing her to the side. He smiles, softly and fondly when she falls asleep again, lying comfortably on his chest like it's the safest place in the world. 

 

Tiny trusts him with her life, with keeping her safe and sound even while she's lost in her dreams. It's a gift he treasures more than anything, one that holds the same weight and meaning as her father's trust does. 

 

He intends to continue to be worth of both. 

 

The dogs lick her fingers and brush against her, but she doesn't wake up. He covers her with a heavy blanket to keep her warm, caresses her soft curls and kisses her forehead, before finally getting to explore the house on his own.

 

Will's bedroom is exactly as he pictured it in his mind: stern and essential, the living space of a man that doesn't need too much to be comfortable. From everything he sees in there, Hannibal tries to find new clues about him, his past, what his life has been up to the moment they met and everything changed.

 

Hannibal knows he's intruding in the safest and most hidden space of the house, the core of Will's defenses, and yet he feels no shame in defiling it, walking through the room like he has been invited to come in and feels like he belongs in there.

 

He studies the books in the library, smiling at seeing Shakespeare next to Stephen King, Fitzgerald and criminology manuals: Will's a cultured and well-read man, one who, however, prefers to hide his intelligence under a thick redneck appearance that probably fools a lot of people.

 

But not Hannibal.

 

Sometimes, the need he feels to strip Will Graham of all his masks and walls is so strong and destructive that he's sure he might do something irrational and destructive to bring down, something that would ruin all his plans: Will's a diamond, the most precious gem, yet he insists on selling himself as coal.

 

And he cannot tolerate it: he wants to see Will and Tiny shine above the banality and mediocrity that surrounds them. Hannibal feels the need to take several long breaths to calm down.

 

He caresses the thick duvet, the white and soft pillows, and then he decides to take his intrusion one step further—savoring that forbidden taste in the back of his mouth.

 

He lies down on the bed, looking at the ceiling and imagining Will doing the same every night. 

 

Does he hope nightmares won't visit him? Does he think about Tiny asleep in the other room? Every thought is a different challenge, a new side of Will he wants to discover and own.

 

Hannibal still doesn't know him enough, yet he's already the closest and most important person he has in his life. How fast everything moved, always shocks him, but he accepts it and pushes forward. He's far too interested in seeing what will happen, where this will lead them all to to stop now.

 

Before leaving the room, he flips through the drawers, the wardrobe, the small closet and smiles pleased when he sees Will's meticulous order, sometimes mixed with reminders of Tiny's mess in the shape of an abandoned toy or a piece of clothing.

 

He stares at the pictures the man keeps there. In some, he's holding Aleksandra right after she was born, and all through the room he chronicles her growth, how she changes through the years, but always remembering where they come from and how far they managed to go and all the efforts it took.

 

Hannibal is mesmerized by the serene look on Will's face as he holds a newborn Tiny, as he cradles her in his arms and smiles at the camera. He sees her first steps, her bright smile while her father bathes her... he can only experience all this through pictures and memories, and he wants to devour them all until it'll feel like he was there too.

 

He closes the door behind himself, but in his mind he's building a new room in his memory palace.

 

And it's just for Will and Tiny.

 

\-----

 

“What are we going to make, Hannibal?”

 

Tiny is holding his hand while he leads the little girl into the kitchen, with a couple of dogs in her trail that, normally, he wouldn't allow there, but that he tolerates this time for her sake. Hannibal smiles down at the child, who's still rubbing her eyes sleepily.

 

Except for the dogs and for the distant sound of the rain falling outside, the house is quiet around them, warmed by the fire he lit in the living room and by the space heaters: Hannibal feels completely relaxed, like he never felt in ages, and tries to capture this feeling to store it away safely in his mind, where it'll be protected forever.

 

“A stew with mushrooms, potatoes and beef cubes. Do you think you and your father might enjoy it?”

 

She nods, pleased with the prospect of such a delicious meal.

 

“Yes! He'd love it and me too. Is it going to take very long to make? Can I help you? I won't play with dangerous things like knives and cutlery, daddy told me not to. But I still want to help!”

 

“It is going to take a couple of hours to cook properly, but don't worry. It'll be worth the wait. And of course you can. I wouldn't be able to do anything at all without my professional kitchen helper.”

 

Tiny giggles and hugs him tight, forcing him to kneel so she can be at face levels and kiss his cheek. Hannibal holds her and picks her up, rocking her into his arms and returning her kiss.

 

She felt closer to him already, but today just filled whatever gap there still was between them, and for her, he's already a member of her family. Hannibal thought he would feel elated and victorious then, but he realizes what a responsibility it is to be needed, to be someone else's caretaker. He's not entirely sure how he feels about that yet. 

 

He's suddenly not sure what he's doing there, with this family; but knows that thing have gone too far to run away now.

 

He settles Aleksandra on a stool, so she can see what he's doing on the table: she looks excited and happy, smiling and clapping her hands, as he lies down the ingredients and explains to her what they're going to do. 

 

“I have a special gift for you.”

 

Her face lights up when he says that, and she shrieks in delight when he places a little chef hat on her head. She takes it to caress the fabric and properly examine it, before putting it back on again and smiling so hard Hannibal can't help being mesmerized by her expression and surrounded by her excitement.

 

It always hit him how Tiny can find happiness in the smallest things, because it's something that he, during the years, forgot, that he lost and left behind.

 

It was something he didn't need, that got in the way of his survival skills. So, he discarded his innocence and his most carefree sides to cloak himself in the darkness that now lives with him.

 

“It's so pretty! Can I keep it? Is it really mine?”

 

“Yes, it is. I am very glad you like it. You look extremely professional and neat wearing it: the perfect look of a proper kitchen helper. We'll show it to your father when he comes home, and I am sure he'll agree with me.”

 

A soft, pink blush spreads beautifully on her cheeks as she looks away a little and then hugs him again, thanking him in her small voice. Every new smile is more beautiful than the last, and all Hannibal is starting to want is to see more of them, to be the one who generates happiness in the child.

 

“You don't have one too, Hannibal?”

 

“I am good like this, Aleksandra. Do not worry about me, you're the one who's worthy of the hat here.”

 

She shakes her head, suddenly bothered by his words, to which she replies with an upset pout and by crossing her arms on her chest. 

 

“But that's not fair! You should have something nice and pretty too! Wait here, okay?”

 

Hannibal watches her bolt to her room, crossing the distance as quickly as she can, and casually wonders if he should follow her to make sure she doesn't get hurt, but then he decides to wait there, to use this moment alone to collect himself, his thoughts and lay down the plan he came up with to get some information out of her.

 

He's trying to put her at ease as much as he can, so it'll be a lot simpler to convince her to open up to him and to, possibly, make sense of the secrets her and Will still hold dear to them and shield from his intrusive eyes. Like the matter of Tiny's other parent and of what happened to him, if he was ever part of the picture or represents a mystery only Will holds the keys to.

 

Hannibal would lie if he said he has not been nearly obsessively trying to imagine who this person is. Is he truly gone forever? Or is he going to appear and ruin all his efforts? And, of course, he wonders if whatever feelings were there between him and Will still exist.

 

The little girl comes back after about five minutes. She's smiling widely, clearly proud of herself, when she presents him with a plastic princess tiara, to which Hannibal reacts by simply blinking and wondering what to do.

 

“Here! You can have this! It's really pretty, right?”

 

Hannibal, quite honestly, has no idea what to do: if he rejects her gift, he might hurt her feelings and make her shy and reserved once again; but, while he doesn't care about how he looks or what people might think, he's not particularly inclined to wear the tiara. So he just holds it into his hands awkwardly.

 

“Well... it would probably look better on you. Thank you for this, though. But I don't think it would suit me at all, Tiny. I am not as cute as you are. You are the only princess here.”

 

Aleksandra vehemently shakes her head, before forcing him to kneel once again, and to accept her gift by placing the tiara precariously on his head, clapping her hands and giggling. He doesn't fight her, of course. Disappointing her it's not something he can afford now; which means he'll just have to sit back and endure.

 

“See? You look pretty too! Like a prince!”

 

He smiles as he picks her up and sits her up on the kitchen counter, allowing her to adjust the tiara on his head and caress his face with her small, warm fingers. She's so proud of her little gesture, because with that she's sharing something else with him, forming a new bond and creating an inner joke between them that is only theirs.

 

“Am I being officially crowned by you, queen of the kitchen?”

 

Aleksandra nods, very solemnly, taking her role entirely seriously.

 

“What about your father? Is a prince too?”

 

“Of course he is! Daddy plays with me and with tiaras all the time. Now you can play with us to!”

 

Hannibal kisses her forehead: he can imagine the scene perfectly of he closes his eyes and allows his imagination to run wild. Will sitting on the floor with Aleksandra by his side: they're both laughing, sharing an intimate moment shielded by the privacy of their house, playing simply and enjoying the simplicity of it.

 

Then he sees himself slip into the picture, occupying the empty space around them and making it his own.

 

“Then I hope he will welcome me just like you have done.”

 

Deep inside, he knows the answer to that already and cannot hide his satisfaction. But Aleksandra doesn't notice the dark look on his face or the sinister shine in his eyes: she just keeps hugging and trusting him, while Hannibal secretly plans and hopes.

 

\-----

 

Despite the fact that she doesn't get to do too much helping in the end, Aleksandra completely enjoys herself during the whole thing. She's smiling brightly, chatty and excited like Hannibal has rarely seen her, and the man cannot help the satisfaction and the pleasure he feels to see her like this thanks to his care.

 

The child enjoys the party tricks he performs for her, like throwing a potato in the air and then catching it with the blade of the knife or the cute and peculiar shapes he gives to the bread for the appetizers. She's fascinated by his abilities, and learns from his detailed and simple explanation with her usual solemn expression on her face.

 

She must be used to be showed how to do things even though she's still too young to do them herself, because she nods interested, internalizing and storing away all the information she gets from him. Hannibal can picture Will taking her fishing with him and the dogs, settling her on the shore, safely away from the water and other dangers, and then slowly showing her how to tie knots, secure lures or find the best spots.

 

And Tiny probably finds everything exciting, partially because she gets to spend time outdoors with her father, but also because she's naturally curious and everything is a new adventure for her.

 

He feels the same in many cases, and relates to her hunger for knowledge and discovery far too well. It's one of the reasons why he likes her so much.

 

Aleksandra helps him wash the potatoes and the mushrooms, hands him the tools he needs and entertains him with little anecdotes of her life. The dogs from time to time peek into the room, sniffing the air and trying to get the little girl to give them some food: she just giggles and focuses on Hannibal completely, caressing the hat on her head and kicking her legs while she's sitting on the counter.

 

He could get used to this, to come home every night to find them there in the house, to cook meals with their help.

 

“Did you and your dad always live here, Tiny?”

 

She shakes her head, while drinking some water and munching on some bread.

 

“Daddy is from New Orleans and I was born there too; we moved here when I was just a baby, so I don't really remember anything... but my grandpa still lives there, you know? We visit him sometimes, in the summer and he makes me little toys made of scraps.”

 

“I didn't know that he was still alive, your father never mentioned him to me.”

 

“We don't see him very much, even though I'm sad about it. He's called Christopher, but I call him Grandpa Graham. Maybe one day you'll meet him too, Hannibal!”

 

Hannibal smiles and nods, internalizing the new information. He was sure Will had no one else, but apparently he was wrong. And this opens a new set of opportunities, of questions and gestures that could help him get closer to him.

 

As always, Aleksandra furnishes him with new, important resources.

 

“I would very much like to meet him, he must be a very interesting man. Do you like it here in Virginia? Or do you prefer Louisiana and wish you two still lived there with your grandfather?”

 

The child reflects on his words for a few minutes, before shrugging, clearly not giving much thought to either possibility: because family and home, for her, are where her father is.

 

“I don't know, really. I like it here much better, I guess: we have the dogs and our house is very pretty too. I'm happy where we live now; I don't know Louisiana very much.”

 

He nods, understanding her point.

 

“Is there a particular reason apart from those?”

 

“I guess it's because daddy's happier here. I don't know, Hannibal: I never really had another home, so I love this one very, very much.”

 

He inhales deeply and stops cutting the carrots for the salad to go check on the stew that is quietly simmering behind them: Will's kitchen is small and quite unfurnished for his culinary needs, but he still managed to produce a decent meal for the three of them. Aleksandra tries to peak on what he's doing, interested in all she can learn from him.

 

Thankfully, she's not a squeamish child, and she didn't even look away while he was cutting the meat or when she helped him put it in the casserole: he could teach her so much, and just thinking about it makes him crave and desire even more intimacy with her and Will than he has now.

 

And that's why he has to be careful now, weigh every word that comes out of his mouth so not to upset her or make her feel defensive. Hannibal knows he has to be gentle and subtle. The challenge, of course, amuses him.

 

“May I ask you a strange question?”

 

She stares at him with her limpid, blue eyes slightly curious and thrilled at the same time, while she frowns a little and then nods, unsure but determined to give him the best answer she can come up with.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Have you ever met your other father?”

 

Hannibal catches her becoming slightly defensive at that question right off the bat: it's in the way she lowers her eyes and bites her lips, like this question is something so new and unexpected for her, that she's not entirely sure how to deal with it. 

 

And much to his chagrin, it slightly ruins the relaxed atmosphere around them, though it does not seem to upset her. She just looks like she has no idea how to reply to it, and that makes her anxious.

 

Gently, he caresses her hair and places a kiss of her forehead to encourage, hearing her take a deep breath in reply.

 

“No. I never met him.”

 

“Never?”

 

She shakes her head.

 

“Never. Daddy says he left before I was born and never came back.”

 

“And you never asked your father about him? What is his name? Where he is now and why he's not with the two of you?”

 

She shakes her head right away and then shrugs, as if the topic bored her and she had no interest at all in it. Hannibal finds her lack of reactions even more interesting, because it tells a lot about the family unit Will managed to build there with her, and about how close knitted they are with each other.

 

Tiny doesn't feel any need to know about her mysterious other parent: not just because of her young age, but also because her father already gives her all she needs.

 

Hannibal smiles to himself, caressing the possibility of taking up that role, since it was never even occupied in the first place before. He wonders if Aleksandra would accept and love him as much as she loves her father, if she would trust him with the same intensity. It's something that fascinates him: the idea of belonging.

 

“No, I never did. It would make daddy sad, you know? Because he always says that it's just the two of us and that it's better this way. I don't really want to meet someone that would make him sad. He doesn't like to talk about when he was young.”

 

He nods, allowing Tiny to adjust her own hat and the tiara he's still wearing so she can distract herself a little, but inside his own head, he's completely focused on what the girl just revealed to him. What kind of dark secrets Will's past must hold for him to cut all kinds of ties so harshly with the father of his child? Who is this man and what has he done?

 

“That's very understandable. Why do you say it makes your father sad?”

 

The child looks away, kicking her feet nervously and taking slow, deep breaths. She's so similar to her father in the ways she shows distress.

 

“I don't know. I just feel that he is sad when I look at him, I guess. There is something in his eyes... and his face gets all weird, so I know there are bad things he doesn't like to talk about and that make him upset. And I don't want him to be. I want daddy to be happy.”

 

“I know that, of course. You're a good girl and you want to protect him. Is that why you don't ask him anything about your other father? Aren't you curious about who he is?”

 

Aleksandra frowns, and Hannibal, for the first time in so long, experiences something very close to guilt for making her nervous, for ruining the good evening they were having together. Yet, it's not enough to stop him from pushing forward, trying to find out more and more about their secrets.

 

The child shrugs in the end.

 

“Not really. I just don't need him. I have daddy, Grandpa Graham, all our friends... and I have you! And that's okay! Right Hannibal?”

 

She hugs him again and very gently, Hannibal runs his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and comforting her until he can feel tension and anxiety leaving Tiny's body.

 

“Yes, you are right. I am sorry if my question bothered you in any way. Can you forgive me?”

 

She smiles and hugs him, burying her head against his chest and allowing Hannibal to cuddle and lull her into his arms. It takes little to placate her and return her to a relaxed and carefree mood. 

 

“It's okay, Hannibal. I love you!”

 

He knows he'll get nothing else out of her: that all he needs to know it's buried inside of Will, somewhere he's still not allowed to go and see. A deep place inside his heart that is hidden even from his child. 

 

In his mind, this unknown man is an enemy wrapped in a dark cloak that he's determined to defeat and devour, to erase him from existence so he won't threaten him and his new family.

 

His family.

 

Referring to the Grahams as such should be uncomfortable and frightening, almost unnatural, because this is a specific need he never had before. A need that scares him, but that, at the same time, he now finds himself craving.

 

And he'd do all he can to protect it.

 

“I love you too, Tiny.”

 

\-----

 

Will's return is, of course, the highlight of the evening. The man looks atrociously exhausted when he steps through the door, but comes alive when Aleksandra runs to him and jumps into his arms, kissing him and allowing him to hold her for as long as he needs to.

 

“Daddy! You're home! I missed you so, so, so much!”

 

The man lets out a long, shaky sigh of relief: and his face transfigures when he smiles at her and kisses her nose, making her giggle.

 

“God, you have no idea how much I've missed you, Sharky. All good? You okay? Had a good time with Hannibal?”

 

She nods and lets herself be taken up so Will can take a good look at her and cradle her in his arms, and look at her like she has been away for years and he just cannot take his eyes off his child. Hannibal understands this moment is not for him to intrude, that he has to be content with just observing it from the sidelines, waiting to be invited to join in. 

 

Will still has not even looked at him, but he finds that, as usual, he doesn't mind his blatant rudeness, at least when Aleksandra is concerned and the man's attention is completely focused on her. He accepted that he's always going to come second for him, that she's his priority.

 

So Hannibal just enjoys lying back against the wall and observe the two of them as they're finally able to relax with each other. It's a moment of recovery for him, too. He gets to feed on the sight of them, on their peace and beauty.

 

“We had lots of fun! And we made dinner! It's so tasty, daddy, I'm sure you'll like it too. But I was worried, because you were taking so long to come home. Are you tired? You look very, very tired.”

 

Will takes a very deep breath and nods. He adjusts Tiny on his hip, then takes off his glasses and massages his tired eyes, while his child clings to him, inhaling his scent. She allows him to lull her into his arms, and only after one last kiss on her temple, he finally remembers Hannibal's presence in the room.

 

And as soon as he catches sight of him, Will's eyes wide in shock, before he starts laughing from the bottom of his heart. It is so genuine and happy it sounds almost foreign in his mouth, coming out of a man like him—who always has a sense of doom and inevitable sadness following him.

 

Now his whole face is lighting up, and Hannibal wants to lick that happiness off of it.

 

“My God, what do you have on your head?!”

 

That's when Hannibal remembers the tiara he's still wearing, and makes a quick motion to take it off, while he can feel an odd and unfamiliar sense of embarrassment creep into him.

 

Not for the situation itself, because he's not touched by it, but because he was caught unprepared. He gets careless with Tiny and Will, he lowers his guard; and the mistakes and faults he's starting to catch in his own behavior are piling more and more at an alarming rate.

 

He smiles anyway.

 

“I gave it to him! Because Hannibal gave me this hat, and said I was the Queen of the Kitchen, but I was sad he didn't have one for himself. So I went to get my tiara and made him a princess. It suits him, doesn't it, daddy?”

 

Will laughs again as he approaches them: their eyes lock for a moment, and Hannibal can read an honest and genuine happiness to have him there in them. He wants to kiss him so bad that he can feel himself crawl out of his own skin, desperate for a contact that he can't have now, but that he craves so deeply he has to dig his nail into his palm to regain some composure.

 

“It really does, Sharky.”

 

“Well, I thank you for it. I take it as a compliment. You, on the other end, do not look very good I am afraid. Was your budget meeting as dreadful as I imagine it?”

 

The man winches and shakes his head in mild disgust as he hands Hannibal the child to take his jacket and tie off.

 

“Worse probably. I need a shower. Do you mind...?”

 

“Of course not. Dinner still needs about half an hour before I can consider it truly ready: take your time, please. We are both just glad you're safely home with us.”

 

There's a deep intake of breath, and Hannibal observes with utter fascination as his body language adjust to his words and to his presence: he can feel the same desire, the same need he's experiencing and he wishes they could give in to it and rid themselves of this intoxication.

 

Will caresses Tiny's soft cheeks and kisses the top of her head.

 

“Hey, Sharky, can you wait here with the dogs while Hannibal and I go to the kitchen for a moment? He'll be right back to stay with you while daddy showers, alright?”

 

She nods, and Hannibal sits her on the couch, with the pack coming closer to her to entertain her so she won't feel alone. He follows Will in the kitchen with his heart rate slightly elevated, filled with a deep desire to know what he'll do.

 

He's not surprised when Will kisses him as soon as they are alone, because he had imagined it, replayed the possibility of the act in his mind during the short distance: but what positively shocks him, it's the intensity of it.

 

The man kisses him like he's starving, but also like he wants to please him so badly he's ready to do anything to do it, even risking his daughter seeing them like this. Hannibal kisses him back feeling slightly light headed, but unbelievably pleased with himself, and wanting more.

 

Sadly, the kiss is short, but Will is smiling against his lips after. Hannibal kisses his neck, wrinkling his nose when he catches the unpleasant smell that clings to it, the result of too many hours spent at work.

 

“Is that how you thank all your babysitters? Or am I a special case?”

 

Will laughs softly as Hannibal holds him.

 

“A very, very special case. Honestly just... I don't even know where to begin to thank you. You did such a great job with her. And you made dinner, which smells amazing, by the way. And I just feel like I'm taking advantage of you...”

 

“You are not; I was happy to help, even happier to be here with you right now.”

 

He nods and kisses him again, slowly this time. And all Hannibal can think about is how far they are already, how deep his connection with this family is.

 

The man doesn't look completely at ease with this explanation, or ready to let go of his need to show his gratitude: he was raised to always thank for every small kindness ten times more. Hannibal surely knows how to use it for his own gains.

 

“You should shower now. We can talk once Tiny is safely asleep and we have a moment for ourselves. And Will: do not thank me. It was only my pleasure.”

 

Will doesn't need to know, of course, that while that is true, there's a lot more to it: that his agency and plans go much further. He hides the smile on his face against the curve of his neck.

 

\-----

 

This is not the first dinner Hannibal spent with the Grahams at their house, surrounded by the world they inhabit, nor the only one he cooked for them and that he brought there for their consumption. But this is the first time he really feels part of their unit, of that feeling of domesticity and family they give him.

 

Now, it seems to include him too.

 

He made dinner for them, took care of Aleksandra, provided for her while the two of them were on their own, just like a family member would.

 

The thrill of power and satisfaction it gives him is nearly overwhelming, and he spends the evening smiling at the happy child sitting in his lap, and to the man right next to him.

 

Tiny monopolizes the dinner completely, as she usually does, entertaining her father with recollections of their day together.

 

She forces Will to try on the hat Hannibal bought for her, and makes him laugh and relax until his hard day is completely forgotten, and he's left pliant and at peace.

 

At to him, Will never looked more beautiful. The light in his eyes and the smile on his face give him a brand new impression of youth that usually is shadowed from his features by the dreads he faces. 

 

His daughter, however, is capable of chasing away all the fatigue and weariness that always haunts him almost instantly. Hannibal wants to burn that image behind his eyelids so it'll always be there for him every time he'll close his eyes, following him around and never letting him go.

 

“You two did a lot of bonding today, I see. I'm so glad you had a good time, Sharky. Pity I couldn't be there with the two of you...”

 

“I was so sad too, daddy! We missed you a lot! You would've loved the cake shop, they even had strawberry pie, your favorite. I told Hannibal about it, and he said he's gonna make you one soon.”

 

The child holds her father's hand, caressing it and the softness he sees in Will is capable of touching even him behind all his walls. He carefully stores all this new information, all his feelings, emotions and impressions inside his palace, where they'll be waiting for him to be examined and used at his advantage.

 

“This gives us the excuse to go there another time, on the other hand. We bought a few slices of all the different types of cake they had: so you'll be able to judge the quality yourself and tell us if going there again is worth it or not.”

 

Will laughs and shakes his head: his fingers brush against Hannibal's shoulder, in an almost caress that leaves him salivating for more. 

 

“Do you think it'd be as good as your dessert?”

 

Hannibal rises his eyebrow and grins at him: they still don't know each other very well, and they both keep holding their secrets close to their chest, not wanting to give away too much.

 

And yet, at the same time, they share this immediate connection neither of them can really explain: all it takes is one look, and they know what the other is thinking, what he's going to say and what to reply. It's a game of cat and mouse that Hannibal wants to prolong forever, one he wants to enjoy as deeply as he can.

 

“You shall be the judge of that, I suppose. I only trust your opinion.”

 

Will is a complicated creature: he could escape his grip at any time, disappearing from his life forever and leaving him with nothing but an unsatisfied hunger; but Hannibal knows how close he is to giving in, to allow him complete trust. And that's what he wants to capitalize on.

 

He wants a family too, and Hannibal wants nothing more than to give him one with himself firmly established in it as an integral part.

 

And, of course, he doesn't forget Aleksandra, who chats lively in his lap and rests against his chest, already enamored with him. She's precious for him, more than he wants to admit, and the protective instinct she generates in him sometimes scares him.

 

But he knows that Will shares it, and that it only proves to him how similar they can be.

 

You and I are just alike. We are monsters, and yet we love as deeply as humans do. Hannibal muses on those words as he watches the two of them finish their dinner.

 

“Pie's good, really good. But I'm sure Hannibal would do a far better job at it, what do you say, Sharky?”

 

Aleksandra nods, her mouth half full and whipped cream spread all around her mouth: Hannibal gently cleans it, earning a thankful smile from her and a soft laugh from Will.

 

“Yes, Hannibal you must make us one!”

 

“What can I say... your wish is my command, Queen of the Kitchen. I shall abide to your requests.”

 

She flushes, and hides her face away as Will runs his fingers through her hair, but he doesn't take away his eyes from Hannibal. The look they share seems to stretch indefinitely around them, transcending the present time and moment they find themselves in. What are you thinking about? What moves inside you? How seeing me like this, with your child, so close to the core of your family makes you feel?

 

Hannibal has a vision of himself sawing into the Will's head, taking his brain out and reading all those answers right from the source, desperate as he is to understand if the obsession he's starting to develop for the other man is reciprocated or not.

 

He wants to know if they're both trapped in this mess together, or if he is there on his own.

 

It's a terrible, sinister thought that he has to forcibly eject from his mind, and that leaves behind a sordid feeling of uncleanliness that clings to his skin. Will, while not aware of what shape his musings are taking, seems to feel something and frowns lightly, not sure what to do or say.

 

They're both then distracted by Aleksandra, and go back to focus on her.

 

To calm himself, he offers to do the dishes despite Will's protests. Of course, the man follows him in the kitchen. Hannibal tries not to look at him for the time being: he dedicates all his attention to the repetitive movement, to the texture of the latex gloves he's wearing, on the scent of soap all around him.

 

“It's getting late; I'm sorry we're exhausting you. I'm sure all you want right now is to go home and get a good night of sleep.”

 

“I don't mind, Will. I do not have work in the morning tomorrow: so I will have plenty of time to recuperate and to allow myself to sleep in for once, though I am generally an early riser. And, to be honest, I much more prefer to be here with the two of you than alone at my house.”

 

Will comes closer, so close that Hannibal can feel the heat of his body close to his own: and he takes an hushed deep breath when the man places a hand on his back and starts rubbing in circles. It's an intensely pleasant feeling: one that makes him wish they could go much further than simple kisses and caresses.

 

He's starting to be devoured by his own need for him; it's maddening.

 

“You did so much for us today. For me. Aleksandra enjoyed herself, I could focus on my work knowing that she was safe with you, and you even made me dinner and stayed over to keep us company. And we both know you didn't have to do any of that to win us over, because you already have. I want to know how much I appreciated it. Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

Hannibal is not entirely sure if he's attempting to sound sensual and teasing on purpose or if this is how Will behaves when he feels indebted with someone: the simple idea of Will doing all this with somebody else makes his blood boil in his veins.

 

He could kill to prevent that.

 

Very slowly, he closes the water, takes off the gloves and turns around, pinning Will against the counter and then surrounding his face with his hands, holding him close. The man smiles wickedly, with such an erotic quirk in his eyes that Hannibal right there has the answer to his dilemma.

 

They kiss deeply, open mouthed and moaning against each other. 

 

“What do you have in mind? Are you suggesting anything specific?”

 

Will smiles and kisses him one more time, arms around his neck and body rubbing against his. How long it has been for him since the last time he allowed this to happen? Who was it with? More questions, more stabbing fits of jealousy.

 

He looks so unbelievably beautiful in his baggy house clothes, scurfy and nearly exhausted by the long day: Hannibal can't help himself and places his head against Will's neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent.

 

Will takes a deep breath and runs his hand through Hannibal's hair and then kisses his temple. It's intimate and gentle, and Hannibal cannot help desiring more of it, imagining how it would feel to be with him like this every day.

 

“Let's put Aleksandra to bed. Then we can discuss it.”

 

\-----

 

Of course, at the beginning Tiny straight out refuses the idea of going to sleep. She pouts and whines, clinging to her father and asking him in that soft voice she knows he can't resist, if she can stay up a little while longer.

 

She should be exhausted by now, unable to stay awake. Yet, she fights against it probably because she doesn't want such an exciting day to be over. He understands her enthusiasm and smiles to her as he complies with her requests and accepts to read for her for a while.

 

“We're really bothering Hannibal as much as we possibly can today, aren't we, Sharky?”

 

Will is smiling while he says that as he brings two cups of tea and one of milk in from the kitchen: he caresses his daughter's hair gently when she looks slightly guilty and worried about it, blinking a couple of times and then turning to face him.

 

“Are we bothering you, Hannibal? Are you upset?”

 

“Of course I am not: every moment I get to spend with you is wonderful. Even when I'm tired, your presence is a relief for me. You and your father should really not worry about it.”

 

Tiny hugs him with a beautiful and soft smile on her face, resting her head against his chest and allowing Hannibal to gently rub her back and comfort her, placing soft kisses on her forehead while Will looks at them clearly pleased.

 

“You need to understand that we're just not very used to having people around caring for us. It's hard to let go of that feeling of taking up too much space and of being a nuisance. It'll take some time: bear for us in the meantime.”

 

His words are so honest and crystalline, coming from the bottom of his heart in a stream of conscience that speaks of his most hidden fears and doubts, of how huge and important trusting and accepting him is for Will. Hannibal puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lightly to show him that yes, he understands.

 

The grateful grin on his face, mixed with some of that deeply ingrained self-deprecating humor that characterizes him, makes a sudden wave of desire wash over Hannibal once again.

 

“I will, do not worry.”

 

Tiny butts in of course, getting off his lap to go kiss her dad on the cheek.

 

“Alana says that daddy is really stubborn and that it's hard to make him change his mind. He always think he's annoying, but he is not! You like him like this, don't you Hannibal?”

 

Her innocence and honesty are truly unnerving at times, because paired with her perspicacity, it makes her oddly able to see so much about people, to deeply get in touch with their most hidden thoughts, desires and fears, though she's too young to understand it.

 

But she is like her father: too smart and sensitive for her own good.

 

“I very much do, his stubbornness makes everything all more interesting. A more stimulating challenge.”

 

The child nods while her father laughs out loud, shaking his head.

 

“See? We love you daddy, don't be upset! Don't think you're a bother please.”

 

Will laughs then, his eyes bright and beautiful.

 

“How could I be sad or upset when I have the two of you with me, huh? Don't worry, Sharky, daddy's okay.”

 

He doesn't look away from Hannibal while saying this. There's a connection that passes between them then, something deep and unspoken that translates in total understanding. He can see Will's weaknesses reflected in his eyes, and they are as beautiful as his strengths.

 

Hannibal takes a deep breath and wonders how the man would react at him exposing himself like this: maybe one day they'll find out.

 

Will returns the child to him, inhaling deeply.

 

“Now, what do you want Hannibal to read?”

 

It takes Aleksandra more than an hour to finally succumb to sleep, abandoning herself against Hannibal's chest. He keeps reading, however, until both he and Will are absolutely certain she's ready for bed and won't complain too much about retiring for the night.

 

She's pliant and accommodating when Will takes her into his arms to take her upstairs, kissing her temple and whispering to her to say goodnight to him: there's one last hug and kiss between them, a brief moment during which Hannibal memorizes every new detail he can see in her, every feeling she awakens in him.

 

Aleksandra is not a second Mischa, he realizes. She's not a way to bring his sister back from the dead. She's an entirely new chance at happiness, and at satisfying his own curiosity and aesthetic pleasures.

 

A moment, later, they're both gone: and Hannibal is left there alone with his thoughts and his demons running through his head. The day exhausted him, provoking reactions and emotions that he struggles to properly fit in the boxes inside his mind where he keeps everything and everyone.

 

It's hard to concentrate, to understand.

 

He's not used to this, and yet, this is what excites him, what keeps him interested.

 

Will and Aleksandra are not boring and their relationship with him is constantly evolving: he feels enchanted and terrified.

 

And he realizes, with a grin on his face that reveals years of boredom, routine, mundane encounters—that it's the first time this has happened in a long, long time.

 

\-----

 

“It's really, really late.”

 

Hannibal smiles at the amused concern in Will's voice, which as usual, mixes with some of that awkwardness that the man can never subdue completely, not even with him. He offers him a drink and then sinks on the couch next to him, smiling and looking at him through half closed eyes.

 

One of his hand goes to caress his thigh and Hannibal's grin widens.

 

“Yes, it is. I should head back soon, before it becomes too tiring and impractical to return home. As much as I love being here with the two of you, I have to admit I very much need some rest; it was a long day.”

 

Will nods, looking away from him: he focuses on swirling the liquor in glass he's holding, and says nothing. He doesn't look embarrassed or guilty, too lost in his own fear of being taking up too much space, of being a nuisance: instead, he's absolutely calm, but far away, like he's trying to make up his mind before acting.

 

“Is Aleksandra safely asleep?”

 

He seems to welcome the topic change, replying to it with a soft smile.

 

“Yeah: she was beat in the end. I could barely keep her awake long enough to help her brush her teeth and put her in her jammies. Poor thing, she had such a day, so full of adventures. I'm glad you were with her.”

 

Hannibal smiles, pouring all his charm into it.

 

“As was I. It was refreshing to see the world through her eyes: she's so incredibly kind, gentle and curious, passionate about all she encounters. You are truly lucky to have a daughter like her.”

 

Will nods, rubbing his hands on his thighs in a nervous gesture that, as usual, follows any compliment he receives. It's endearing to see him like this: so proud of his daughter, but also ready to bring himself down in comparison. So Hannibal, of course, decides to press more and more on that exposed nerve.

 

“And, I must say, I have an all new found respect for you, Will. I cannot imagine how it must be to joust yourself between your hard work, a pack of seven dogs and a young child every single day. You are truly inspiring. I am exhausted after only a few hours.”

 

The man stares at him like he's tempted to tell him to shut up and don't say another word, like he wants to argue against what he's saying. But, of course, he doesn't: he observes Hannibal in details, to understand if he's being truly honest or not.

 

“I feel like I haven't thanked you enough for what you've done, that I need to push forward how thankful I am even more...”

 

Hannibal briefly closes his eyes when Will reaches out to runs his fingers on his arm, going up until he places them on his neck: he's warm and pleasant; he wishes he could keep Will forever like this.

 

“I am glad she's finally resting, and please, Will. Relax. I did nothing to deserve all this gratitude. It was a pleasure for me and I was glad to help you. You and Aleksandra fill up my empty days, bring into my life something priceless. I should feel indebted to you, not the other way around.”

 

The man inhales deeply and then, very gently, kisses him: he sucks on his lower lip and allows Hannibal to wrap his arms around him, pulling Will closer and then nuzzling against his neck, placing more soft kisses on his skin while Will laughs softly and runs his hand through his hair.

 

Their intimate moments are both urgent and tender for now, mixed with their desire to know each other as deeply as they can, but at the same time the urgency to pull away and hide behind their walls. Will moans when Hannibal lets him go, but doesn't try to stop him. They stare at each other with half smiles on their faces, at least until Will starts speaking again.

 

“I still feel bad, like I'm... taking advantage of you. And I feel guilty about keeping you up so late and about the long trip ahead of you... like I need to do something for you.”

 

Hannibal takes a deep breath. He tries not to expect too much from his words, but it's impossible to subdue the hopes he holds inside for what he might say and do.

 

“Such as?”

 

The man grins.

 

“You could sleep here tonight, since you don't have work in the morning. I have a... moderately comfortable guest room, the house is very quiet and the dogs won't bother you. And it would make me feel a lot better, even just because you wouldn't be on the road so late at night...”

 

Hannibal is beaming on the inside, tasting victory and success in the back of his mouth. They're both so unbelievably sweet, as is the sound of Will's voice, his words and the look in his eyes.

 

He worries about him, wants him to belong in the safest and most sacred space he owns, accepts him there completely. Will has carved a place for him both there and inside his heart, not knowing that Hannibal is the same kind of poisonous snake he so desperately tries to keep out and away from Aleksandra.

 

He welcomed him, instead. And he's not sure how much the man realizes, how coherent and aware his choice is; a part of him knows who he is, but it hasn't reaches his consciousness yet.

 

Hannibal is determined to make the most of it.

 

“I must admit I would greatly appreciate not having to drive after such a long day. These roads can be treacherous when one is as tired and not perfectly familiar with them as I am. Thank you, Will.”

 

Will smiles and nods, but doesn't move: he can sense Hannibal has more to say, so he stays still and in silence.

 

“However... I wonder what Aleksandra might think when she'll see me here tomorrow morning. Would this confuse her about the nature of our relationship and give her possibly false hopes?”

 

Hannibal doesn't take his eyes and hands off of Will, not even when the man looks away and closes his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose like he was expecting this question, these exact words, but is wishing they hadn't come.

 

“Sometimes I'm still not sure what the nature of our relationship actually is, to be honest. But Aleksandra is already used to seeing you here all the time, I don't think she'll question it too much...”

 

No matter how deep their connection might be, Hannibal is always aware that what they have is strictly tied to Aleksandra's comfort and peace of mind, that Will would never, ever put anyone and anything before her: she's the key to get to him. And he has to play their game, while keeping this always clear in his mind.

 

It's a relief that his bond with the child is strong enough to stand on its own, that they already have a personal relationship that does not necessarily include her father. He understands how important this is and how it plays in his favor.

 

“I assume there is a 'but' at the end of that sentence.”

 

Will smiles and looks at him again, his face soft under his fingertips as he gently strokes it. The man takes a very deep breath and rubs the bridge of his nose. Hannibal can count all his lashes, all the almost invisible freckles on the tip of his nose and focuses on them while he's lost in his thoughts.

 

“I told you before that it has been a very, very long time since I had someone in my life. Actually, there hasn't been anyone since I had Tiny. I can't allow people to come and go from her life, taking up space, gaining her trust and affections, and then leaving: I don't have one night stands or affairs. I simply cannot afford it. And I am sure you know all this already.”

 

Hannibal nods.

 

“You are saying that, unless I understand that whatever relationship we might have is going to be a serious and lasting one, I might want to reconsider it and walk away now before it's too late?”

 

“I like you. I really, really like you. This is new to me, I... don't think I've ever felt this way before. But if you're not up for this... life I have... I will not it against you, of course. I know a child is a big responsibility and that it's not your own, but yeah, walk away now if you don't want it. Aleksandra already loves you too much and has too many hopes and expectations. I don't want her to have more knowing they won't be reciprocated and fulfilled.”

 

Will's voice is low, nearly flat as he says this, but Hannibal understands how much it costs to be letting all this out, to expose such deep and emotional feelings: he dreads his reply, but wants to hear it nearly as desperately, because at least it will put an end to the muddy and confusing situation they're sharing.

 

Hannibal imagined this moment many times, but is taken aback by the absolute lack of dramatic tension in it. The atmosphere around them is so incredibly calm, with the dogs asleep in front of the fireplace, Tiny in her room and them setting on the couch.

 

They're looking into each other's eyes and trying to weigh the pros and cons of what they're trying to build. Will's uncertainty is so beautifully vulnerable and human. It makes Hannibal want to break him and keep him safe at the same time.

 

“It is a big responsibility: and I am sure many people would feel threatened by it, unsure on whatever or not they can handle it. A child has needs and hopes that completely differ from those of an adult, and for this reason are more insidious to satisfy. I should be scared of what I am getting myself into, because I value my independence and my solitary life. And yet... here I am.”

 

He takes the man's hand and strokes it.

 

“Yeah. And yet here you are.”

 

He kisses Will slowly, holding him close and then feeling him sigh deeply against his lips with a smile on his face, because he understood the meaning of the gesture right away. Hannibal knew from the very start what his answer was going to be, but he's pleased to see how positive and genuine Will's reaction is to it.

 

“And I don't intend to go anywhere, I am ready to accept all that comes with this decision. I am very attached to you and Tiny. I want the two of you in my life, together with all that comes with it. Do you believe me, Will? Do you accept my feelings and my good faith?”

 

Will laughs against his lips, before kissing him again and again, a flush of relief spreading on his cheeks as he does so. He nods very slowly: and he looks so beautiful, so perfect that Hannibal would love to freeze him into this one perfect instant and keep it forever.

 

“I believe you, I really do. And I'm trusting you on this: please don't screw it up.”

 

His laugh is so amused and genuine that it surprises even him.

 

“I will try not to, I promise.”

 

Will inhales deeply.

 

“I don't know why I'm so willing to put my faith in you, all I know is that... there's something in you I'm desperately drawn to. I hope that won't get me or my child hurt.”

 

“I would never hurt you or Aleksandra, never.”

 

Will nods awkwardly, probably surprised by his own words, shocked by how honest he was. Hannibal himself is shocked by how much he means what he just said, how true and completely honest his words are.

 

He has always been ready to do everything in his power to protect himself and his freedom. But know, the Grahams are in the way of his perfectly crafted idea of himself, and it's maddeningly unsettling. Like looking in the mirror and seeing someone else in it for a split second, but that one moment is enough to compromise your sense of self.

 

Hannibal breathes in and out deeply to regain his composure.

 

“But I do have a request... you can consider it a compensation for today, if it makes you feel better and helps easing your guilt about being a bother to me.”

 

Will is still pliant and relaxed under his fingers as Hannibal strokes the back of his head and holds him still, so he won't be able to look away or break contact between the two of them. Despite this, he still frowns, looking up to him and trying to understand what game he's playing and how to defend himself against it.

 

In response, Hannibal smiles.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Come to dinner at my house. Alone. I believe there is a lot more to say here, about what is happening between us and how to proceed from here. We have reached an important milestone, but there is still much to discuss.”

 

Of all the reactions Hannibal had tried to anticipate in Will while saying those words, the almost seductive and wicked smile he receives, together with a low, amused and genuine laugh was not on the list.

 

Will kisses him again, and the takes a very deep breath with his eyes closed, while he tries to read him to anticipate his reaction.

 

“Are you sure all you'll want to do is talk?”

 

Hannibal smiles back then, his desire for Will is absolute and he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't want to have him naked and aroused for him, hopefully sooner than later. But he realizes how big this must be for him, a man that by his own admission is not that much interested in having sexual partners. 

 

They both want the same things; but the results in their lives will be much different.

 

“I am open to all possibilities, as you might know very well by now. Whatever will happened between us, I will accept it. But I won't lie... I do have hopes...”

 

They kiss again, before the man finally gets off of him to sit back normally on the couch, and Hannibal has to fight the need to pull him back.

 

“I usually don't like leaving Aleksandra alone at night... but you're right. We need a night just for the two of us: there's a lot between us that needs to be clarified before we can move on. I need to be sure of you, and you need to know me better. So yeah, I'll come over.”

 

He can't even begin to imagine how satisfied the grin on his face must look: but he does not worry about it. He can afford to expose himself more now, can work with what he has and let his mind work fast to elaborate his next move, what he will do to trap Will in his web once and for all.

 

Will closes his eyes, abandoned against the couch like he's about to fall asleep: he looks ethereally beautiful like this, and Hannibal commits the image to memory, already picturing himself sketching him once he'll be alone. 

 

He gently touches his cheek, and can feel Will smile sleepily against his hand, completely at ease as he is now.

 

“I should get up and go make your bed. I'm afraid I might just start snoring if I don't kick myself to do it...”

 

Hannibal smiles back at him when he opens his eyes and looks at him, so vulnerable and yet so strong. There is so much in Will to discover, so many secrets that are just waiting to be revealed in front of his inquisitive eyes.

 

But for now, they can both relax.

 

“We can stay here a moment more.”

 

Will giggles at that, but he doesn't pull away.

 

“Yeah. A moment more.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, a new chapter. So sorry for taking so long (again) and thanks to all of you for your patience.  
> I hope you'll enjoy it.

“Well? How do I look?”

 

Will grins when Aleksandra and Abigail both look up at him at the same time from their seats on the floor, where they're busy in their games; smiles widely when his little girl runs to him and jumps in his arms, kissing his cheek with her usual and sudden affection that always overwhelms him.

 

He inhales her delicate scent and relaxes into the warmth of her little body as she showers him with her usual genuine and complete love.

 

“You are so handsome, daddy!”

 

Tiny hugs him tight and rests against his shoulder as Will rocks her in his arms and kisses her forehead.

 

“You think so, Sharky? Do you think Hannibal is going to think I'm handsome as well?”

 

She giggles and nods, looking back to Abigail for a second to share with her the excitement that lights up her eyes and her face. It's rare for Tiny to spend a whole night without him; despite his job and Jack's attempts, he always resisted traveling too much or staying away for too long. 

 

And he certainly never planned to spend a night away to sleep with someone before. It's new for him too, this feeling of longing, the savage need to be touched, to be kissed and fucked after so long. He's not even sure he'll go through with it tonight, or if he'll run away to hide back home with Tiny and the dogs, but just the fact that he's considering that option is enough to turn him on.

 

Tiny caresses his face with the tip of her small fingers as Will takes her with him to sit on the couch. 

 

“Of course he will! He always likes you, daddy. Very, very much. Are you happy to go see him?”

 

“Sure. I am, Tiny. I'm less happy about leaving you here alone, though. You sure you're going to be okay on your own with Abigail?”

 

It's the older girl who replies this time, as she approaches them with her dark hair almost hanging on her face as she caresses Tiny's head and gives him a long and hard look, but still with a grin on her face.

 

“We'll be just fine, don't you worry. You should think about enjoying your evening and have a good time. Right, Tiny?”

 

“Yes, daddy! You should have fun!”

 

Will sighs deeply and, for a moment, he loses himself in his own mind, thinking about what his relationship with Hannibal has been so far, what it means to him and his expectations for tonight.

 

The last few months have been like a dream for him, almost unreal, removed from his everyday life. Hannibal arrived out of nowhere and carved himself a bigger and bigger space in his and Aleksandra's life, in such a deeply meaningful way that it's frightening to look back and see how much he impacted them in such a short period of time.

 

For the longest time, especially since Tiny was born, Will was used to being alone, to dedicating his whole life only to take care of her. He devoted his attention entirely to his daughter. The truth is, he didn't want or need anyone else but her.

 

They used to be this perfect and unbreakable unit, and she was and will always be the most precious and intimate part of his life; the one he could never share with anyone before because he wanted to protect it.

 

He wanted to protect Tiny, at all costs from any harm, even at the expenses of his own loneliness. For a moment, the image of the little girl's other father swims in front of his eyes, like a gunshot that pierces the night. Just that is enough to remind him why he never even tried to trust outsiders, to welcome them in his family.

 

But now he wants to need Hannibal there with the two of them, and he's afraid of his own desires, because there's this voice in the back of his head warning him against making impulsive decisions, against trusting strangers with Tiny. 

 

And Hannibal is, at the end of the day, still a stranger, one that carries with him a dangerous aura he still cannot explain and that he's at the same time afraid of and deadly attracted to. Hannibal's something new, an uncharted territory that represents a temptation Will's not sure he can keep resisting.

 

Especially when he sees Hannibal with Tiny and how happy it makes her feel to have him around. Their bond is so strong now after all this months, that breaking it would cause her a lot of pain.

 

Will smiles at her.

 

“Then I'll have to try to do that, Sharky.”

 

She nods solemnly, looking pleased by his answer and relaxing in his arms, while Will holds her and sighs as his eyes meet Abigail's again for one moment. The older girl might not be exactly aware of what's going on inside of him, but she knows him enough to know what a big step this is for him.

 

“Daddy, can you bring Hannibal something from me? I made him a new drawing, I want him to see it! Please, daddy, please?”

 

“Of course. Go get it, come on. Daddy has to leave soon or I'll be late.”

 

Once they are alone in the room, she comes sit next to him, sighing as Will busies himself with adjusting his tie and trying to ignore her piercing glances. He has knows Abigail for four years now, since Tiny wasn't even a year old and the girl she started babysitting her. He has seen her grow, survive a life that has been way too hard on such a young woman, hurting her over and over again, and in all the worst ways.

 

Will saw her move on from the tragedies of her past to become the independent and beautiful young woman she is now.

 

Maybe that's the reason why he's always happy to see her as serene and peaceful now; he even allows her to pry into his life with her curious eyes, because he know she can be trusted.

 

He sighs and smiles.

 

“You two are gonna be fine, right?”

 

Abigail snorts and rolls her eyes, rubbing her hands on her jeans while checking the door to see if Tiny is coming back. Will leans back against the couch, staring absently at the paint peeling off the ceiling, making a mental note to fix that as soon as possible, then trying to remember what else he should take with him to Hannibal's, other than the bottle of wine he got him and the go-bag already waiting for him in the car.

 

Perhaps he's being far too hopeful. Maybe he's not optimistic enough. Hannibal didn't let any of his true intention filter through the layers of his words, keeping them carefully hidden from him no matter how hard he tries to remember their conversation to understand what's going to happen between them tonight.

 

In any case, even though he tries to take his mind off his doubts, he realizes that he can't. He feels sixteen again, obsessing over his crush and fearing to make the wrong move and ruin everything.

 

Abigail, thankfully, distracts him.

 

“It's not the first time we girls spend the night together on our own! You really shouldn't worry about us, Will. Just focus on your evening and your... secret partner you still have to tell me all about. Seriously, I heard more from Tiny than from you!”

 

Will laughs softly.

 

“Yeah, you're right. I know you'll look after Tiny and that she'll be just fine with you. And yes, I promise you'll meet him soon.”

 

The girl nods and then sighs, and for a moment, as she smiles brightly, she looks finally younger and more carefree, with a hint of irony in her grin. Will wishes he could see her like this all the time.

 

“Are you worried?”

 

“A little. Haven't gone on a date in a long time... not really sure what to expect anymore, if I do expect anything to happen at all or if I hope it won't. All I know is that tonight is going to either wreck this... relationship or finally stabilize it. We'll have to wait and see, I guess. At least I know Aleksandra is going to be alright here with you.”

 

Abigail says nothing at that, but from the look in her eyes, Will knows she understands. They are both wounded and broken people; life left deep scars on their bodies, and maybe that is why they immediately trusted each other so much, and why they can see themselves so clearly in one another.

 

And why Abigail is able to understand the fear that comes from deciding to trust someone else and let him in your life. Will has wrapped himself in so many walls and armors to protect himself, to shield his heart and Aleksandra from the ugliness of the world outside. Now he's letting in someone he still isn't sure he understands or can see clearly, a man that sometimes makes him think he should run as far away from him as he can.

 

Hannibal is cloaked in darkness, in thick layers made from secrets and shadows that Will can't seem to see through yet, and he's afraid of what he'll find there once he'll be able to.

 

Yet, when Aleksandra runs back into the room with the drawing in her hand, smiling brightly and telling him what she wants him to give to the man, he realizes how much happiness Hannibal Lecter brought into their lives, and can't bring himself to even consider leaving all this behind.

 

The little girl settles in his lap once again, holding him close like she's not sure she wants to let him go, and Will remembers when she used to be just a baby, doing the exact same thing. He kisses her forehead and inhales her sweet, welcoming scent.

 

“It's a beautiful drawing, Sharky. I'm sure Hannibal's gonna love it just as much. Do you want him to call you? So he can wish you goodnight before you go to bed and tell you how much he liked your gift?”

 

She lights up at the idea, clapping her hands and smiling to him and Abigail. 

 

“Yes, please, daddy! I want to wish him goodnight too.”

 

Will smiles back to her. A part of him, doesn't want to leave her. After all these years, he knows every moment with her is precious, because she grows up way too fast already, so much that he's constantly afraid of missing important moments of her childhood. It's almost egoistic, wanting to be always with her, even though he knows she can be just fine on her own.

 

But then his eyes go to the watch on his wrist, and he sighs, knowing it's time to go.

 

“Daddy has to leave now, Sharky, or I'll be late. And that wouldn't be nice, right? Hannibal would be disappointed.”

 

Aleksandra tries not to look too sad about the idea of him not being home with her at night, to smile at him as she nods, but he can tell she, too, wishes he could stay with her. Will kisses her cheeks, hugs her for a long time and pets her hair before finally getting up.

 

She walks him to the door with Abigail trailing behind the. Tiny waves her small hand and forcing him down one more time to kiss him and rest her head against his chest. She's warm, soft and pliant in his arms, just as she was when she was a baby.

 

“Have fun, daddy! I love you so, so much!”

 

“I love you too, Sharky. I love you more than anything. Call me for anything, okay?”

 

Abigail nearly pushes him out of the house, laughing and telling him not to worry. Will finds himself outside in the cold with a bottle of wine in his hands and not knowing what will happen tonight, resisting the temptation to go back and walking forward instead.

 

Tiny waves at him until his car disappears down the road and he can't see the house anymore.

 

\---

 

Hannibal opens the door with a pleased and satisfied smile on his face, wearing a navy blue sweater paired with dark green slacks, that make Will feel overdressed in his tie, shirt and jacket for the first time since they've met. He reciprocates the smile anyway, inhaling deeply the delicious scent of the dinner Hannibal's cooking and trying to get a hold of himself and dispel the aura of tension that formed for a moment between them.

 

But maybe he's the only one who noticed it, who feels still out of place there with him.

 

The man looks so unbelievably relaxed as he welcomes Will in the house and takes him to the living room, where there's already a freshly poured glass of wine waiting for him.

 

“Am I early? You're still not... dressed.”

 

Will can't help feeling embarrassed when Hannibal laughs at his comment, and busies himself with taking a sip of his drink. 

 

“Not at all, you're perfectly on time. I just decided to be more... casual this evening; I want our dinner tonight to be as cozy and relaxed as possible, since I know you very much enjoy easy nights at home and a comfortable atmosphere.”

 

It's a simple gesture, and one that Will isn't sure how much he should trust the sincerity behind it, but it still makes him smile. Every attempt that Hannibal makes at becoming more familiar to how he and Tiny live, endears him despite all the rest.

 

“I can't believe you can fathom having dinner without wearing a three piece suit... but... yeah, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

 

Hannibal approaches Will silently, stopping right in front of him, exuding a calm and a placid happiness in having him here that makes him feel flustered all of a sudden. Then, with one hand, he caresses his cheek, and Will keeps smiling like he's not capable of doing anything else, leaning into the touch.

 

He sighs when the fingers slide on his neck, slowly following its curve before leaving his skin, and he looks at the man like he wants to understand how far they're going to take their relationship tonight. But he gives no insights on that.

 

“My three piece suits won't get offended, I am sure. You are welcome, Will.”

 

Their relationship grew significantly in the last few weeks. Something deepened between them, and Will had pushed aside much of his usual refusal to open up to other people for him. But they are still far away from being a couple. They don't welcome each other with a kiss, don't make long term plans. They tentatively try to learn: he wonders how much how much is going to change after tonight.

 

Will clears his throat and looks away, looking at his watch and remembering that Tiny is at home, waiting for Hannibal to call her. In his guts, he still feel the faint desire to pull the man close, kiss him and forget dinner and the usual formalities between them to give voice to that need of touch and contact he's starving for.

 

Yet, he enjoys waiting and doesn't do anything for the time being.

 

“Aleksandra sent you a little gift, a new drawing she couldn't wait to show you. And you must call her to tell her what you think of it, and to wish her goodnight.”

 

Hannibal grins, nodding as he also drinks some wine.

 

“Then I should do that immediately: it is getting quite late, I don't want her to stay awake just to answer my call. It is always rude to keep a lady waiting, and discourtesy is very ugly to me.”

 

Will lets him do all the talk on the phone: he sits quietly on the couch next to Hannibal, and observes him as he and Alexandra chat on the phone like old friends, with a sweet familiarity the little girl only ever had with him.

 

The man smiles his most honest, happy and beautiful smile for her, as he tells her how much he likes her drawing and gently caresses the paper like he's holding a precious artifact of immense value. In moments like this, Will can't help imagine Hannibal as a full-time father to her, and a partner for him that would occupy that place next to him that he never believed could be filled.

 

The reason why, is that he never wanted anyone to do that: and even now, he's still afraid of who he might be letting in, because he was hurt before and the idea of going through that again is unbearable. Could Hannibal really be the man he never knew he was waiting for? Even with all his dark corners, with his secrets and the unsettling aura of danger that follows him, Will is starting to believe he might be.

 

Aleksandra trusts him completely, shares her most intimate world with him even though she's usually so shy that he struggles to persuade her to open up with strangers. Yet, they clicked immediately, there was no distance between them from the very start. It's both unsettling and fascinating to see Tiny like this, so comfortable and happy.

 

Maybe that is what really pulls him towards Hannibal. There's lust, of course, his own desire to be with. Will has been dreaming about him, his hands, his kisses and it tickled a part of him that he thought was gone forever. Hannibal can see behind his walls, can trample them and reach his core. He feels good with him, like the man understand him better than anyone ever could before.

 

And that's as intense and important as everything else.

 

But what makes Will truly believe they could work together as a couple is watching him with Tiny, listening to the way he talks to her, how he gently handles her without sounding condescending. She loves him, and what is incredible is that his affection for her it's not faked at all. Will would know if it was.

 

He imagines the three of them as a family way more than he probably should, because getting his hopes up and losing himself in dreams that might never become true is dangerous for a man like him, with so much to lose. But he finds that he just can't help himself.

 

Hannibal turns to face him for a moment, while he and Aleksandra are finally saying goodbye to each other, and Will smiles so brightly to him that even he looks genuinely surprised. There used to be a natural diffidence between them, and there is still a gap where all the doubts and fears still all are, but most of it disappeared.

 

There is a link between them, one that includes how Aleksandra managed to bring them together, and Will has never felt like this before, never wanted someone as much as he wants him. He wonders if Hannibal feels the same, if what they have is as scary and terrifying for him as it is for Will.

 

He struggles to part from Aleksandra, because the little girl is still so overwhelmed by all the compliments she received, that she refuses to go to sleep now; Hannibal observes him from the sides, with a grin on his face that says he's not sorry at all for making her excited she almost cannot go to sleep.

 

It takes a lot of coaxing, but when he and his daughter finally wish each other goodnight, it hurts as it always does. Will feels almost lost without her next to him, and as much as he enjoys spending time on his own once in a while, he misses her so much anyway, and counts the hours that separate him from her.

 

Hannibal slips in between his emotions with his seraphic calm, that clashes with the desire he can read in his eyes and that sends a shiver of need down his spine.

 

Will sighs deeply when he finally hangs up the phone, rubbing his eyes and trying to make sense of his feelings. There's so much confusion inside of him right now, there's a tingle right on the surface of his skin that tells him he would do anything Hannibal asked him to, and the fact that the evening hasn't even started yet is truly mind blowing.

 

Hannibal, on the other hand, is looking at Tiny's drawing, a little portrait him, with a subtle and pleased smile on his face, that curves his lips and softens his features.

 

“This is truly remarkable for such a small child, Will. She does really have a natural talent. You should be very proud of her.”

 

He looks so genuinely surprised and pleased by it, that once again Will feels that pull, that deep connection with him that inevitably makes him relax and smile. It's unsettling how easy it is. He's far too used to living surrounded by fear, that being able to let it all go like this, makes him even more afraid of losing it all.

 

“Just like you have a natural talent with her. Honestly, I still cannot believe you don't have children. You are so sweet and caring with her, you always know what the right thing to say it. I know I said this already, but just... sometimes I still almost envy you.”

 

“You should not, Will. It is just very natural for me to be kind to your daughter because she deserves it. She's smart, gentle... and deserves all the appreciation she receives. But what I do is just complimenting her and spending time with the two of you. You, on the other hand, raised her to be like this. And that matters a lot more than any compliment.”

 

Will smiles softly: his fingers reach out to stop on the man's wrist, caressing the skin and feeling his regular, calm and reassuring pulse under it. Hannibal smiles too, and his own hand goes once again to his face, light as a feather at first, then becoming harder when it surrounds his neck so Hannibal can bring him closer. Will doesn't even try to fight it: he just laughs against his lips once they are close enough.

 

Kissing him after what feels like years, when it has been only a few days, it's so intense and so strong Will can't help feeling lightheaded and desperate for more. Hannibal licks his lips, bites the bottom one lightly, but enough to make him moan.

 

Hannibal looks... exposed now, naked in front of him with his shiny blood-colored eyes and the need to have Will right there that oozes out of him with every touch, every caress, every whisper against his fevered skin.

 

And when he pulls away, Will feels so empty without this intensity that almost wants to tell him not to stop. But now it's not the time, not yet. There is more they need to say to each other, more that needs to pass between before they can trust each other completely enough to move so much further.

 

“I was wondering why you hadn't kissed me yet...”

 

“Well, I did not want to pressure you too much. But it is rewarding to know how receptive you are to my touch. It gives me hopes for tonight...”

 

Will snorts, sitting up better and adjusting his tie.

 

“You're so smug, I can't believe I still put up with you.”

 

Hannibal smiles proudly at him, before taking the drawing again to finally put it safely away, but stopping one moment more to admire it. Softness floods his eyes once again, lifting the mood in the room and smoothing the tension between them.

 

“Do you also draw, Will? A talent like this, it is usually hereditary.”

 

That's when Will has to look away from him: when a sudden fear grips him, and his mind is filled with memories he'd love to erase from his mind forever. He sees drawings of himself plastered all over the wall, an obsession in progress that he knows too well that won't stop and feels once again trapped in that nightmare.

 

He ran away from that as far as he could, but his past life still lingers above him, in the little things Aleksandra has taken from her other father, including her talent. It's disgusting to him to think he could have a part in that, but it's harder to hate it when it becomes part of his daughter.

 

Will might regret all that happened with that man he can't even think about without feeling dirty, but can't deny that he gave him the most important part of his life, the joy of his days, what keeps him alive every day. That's why he's not ashamed of it, but he still struggles to breach the subject.

 

“No, she didn't take that from me.”

 

Hannibal takes a very deep breath, but for a long moment, he says nothing.

 

“Did I go too far in asking? I hope I did not upset you, I wouldn't want to ruin our evening so early. It would be a shame.”

 

“No, don't worry. This is just a tough subject for me. Something I don't like bringing up.”

 

When Will finally masters the courage to look back to him, there is something dark in his eyes now, something that lurks behind them and that is dangerous, that sips a jealousy and a savage curiosity that almost scares him.

 

Hannibal hates not being in control, to be kept in the dark, and in the rare moment where his control slips and his mask reveals some of what is underneath, what Will sees is a hungry beast that cannot wait to sink his teeth in his flesh. And what is absurd, it's that Will wants to be devoured as much as Hannibal wants to devour him.

 

“Will we ever address the elephant in the room, Will? I do want to respect your privacy, your right at keeping all the secrets you wish to keep... but one day, you will have to open up to me about this. I need to know what I am dealing with.”

 

Will sighs, and deep down knows he's right. And wonders if talking about something he has kept bolted up inside himself for such a long time, would help him to finally leave it all behind.

 

“Not now. Maybe later, after I had a lot of drinks... you can ask again. But I won't promise anything. Just don't expect me to be straightforward on this, for now at least.”

 

Hannibal hesitates for a moment, like a part of him wants to push him further until he'll get an answer, while another is ready to comply. In the end, he sighs, nodding.

 

“Fair enough. This is an answer I can accept, for the time being at least. I hope, in time, you might trust me to share this with me.”

 

Will nods, and tries to smile even though he still feels those memories lingering on his skin like a disease that doesn't want to pass. Hannibal, of course, is ready to save him from the dangers of his own mind.

 

“Now, I think it is better for us to move back to much more pleasant things. Please, follow me in the kitchen; I have something special prepared for you.”

 

\---

 

Even though he has only been in there a handful of times, Will knew from the very start that, for Hannibal, the kitchen is a sacred space, one that has a special meaning that maybe he doesn't understand yet, but that for Hannibal makes all the difference. In there, when he takes a long and deep breath, he can get a scent of the real atmosphere that surrounds him, without anything in the way to tamper with his senses and his perceptions.

 

Hannibal is the absolute, feared and respected king, a powerful wizard who conjures wonders in the pots he stirs and in the ovens that burn hot all around him. Will smiles to himself, running a hand on the marble counter and smiling at him, relaxed once again and with the shadows of his past chased away once again.

 

“I thought we could take our aperitif here, while I finish attending to our meals.”

 

Will nods, too busy trying to guess what he's cooking, but giving up on that quickly to return his attention on him. 

 

“You seem to be going way out of your way to make me comfortable... maybe you hope it'll get me in a better disposition for sex? Aren't you being a little too forward?”

 

Hannibal is cutting some sort of cheese, making little bite sized snacks out of them and then placing it in a plate together with prosciutto. He looks up at him with a smile that drips sin and malice from every pore, and that gets Will even more excited than he already is. Will tries not to blush, but he can feel his cheeks heating up, so he just looks away.

 

“Perhaps I am just trying to give luck a little help. I am a very hopeful man. But I might have to change course of action, if this is putting you off.”

 

Will laughs, walking towards him, but still staying far enough.

 

“Don't stop. I like seeing you struggle.”

 

Hannibal puts some honey in a little bowl, and then presents the modest, but unusual meal to him for tasting. He pours more wine, smiling as he watches him hesitate.

 

“Dip the cheese into the honey and then eat it. Move on the prosciutto after you have savored that.”

 

Obediently, like a child, Will does what he's told. He's not sure if the sound that escapes his lips is only in his head or if Hannibal heart it too, but he nearly moans in pleasure, realizing only then how hungry he was. The man smiles, exposing his teeth, like he's just about ready to devour him.

 

The cheese is creamy, strong flavored, it melts inside his mouth mixing with the honey, giving the food a sweet aftertaste he can still feel after he swallows.

 

“God, this is delicious. What is it?”

 

“The cheese is Taleggio, Italian and quite rich in taste. A dear friend of mine who produces it in his own farm sends me quite a few forms every year. I just received this one and I waited to try it with you. It will also be in the risotto we will eat later. The honey is wildflower honey. Maybe not a taste you're used to, but I am glad you enjoyed.”

 

Will wants to kiss him desperately; his mouth feels suddenly dry and his hands itch with the need to pull him closer. There is something about him, about the way he softly speaks and in how he looks at him, that drives him mad, and that is so intense he struggles to handle it.

 

“That... sounds great. Can't wait to see what else you've prepared for us tonight.”

 

“Oh yes. I am sure you'll be quite intrigued by the other courses, especially by the roast. Cooking meat is a specialty of mine, you might say. But first, let us finish this.”

 

He nods awkwardly, trying to calm his raging heartbeat, to appear as normal as he can and to hide his thoughts behind a facade of calm, even though faking has never been one of his abilities.

 

For a while, they let the idle talks between them go back to Tiny, to how she's doing in school. It's a safe subject, something they don't have to be careful about. The eat, drink, talk and laugh and everything seems to come so easily between them that Will can't help letting himself hope for a future where everyday could be just like this.

 

It's a dream, something that probably will never happen, but it's nice to let himself be lulled by that thought. The food is delicious, the wine warms him up and every one of his fears feel far away. 

 

“I must confess something to you.”

 

Will grins, allowing himself to be distracted from the food, suddenly awakened from the warm and fuzzy atmosphere that was swallowing him.

 

“Oh? What is that? A wife in the attic, maybe?”

 

“Nothing as dramatic as that, I'm afraid, even though it would have been quite the coup de théâtre. I will surely organize myself better next time I have you over.”

 

“God, you're such a smug asshole, aren't you? Look at you, so pleased with yourself and your wit.”

 

They both laugh at that. Will can sense so clearly the intimacy that is building between them though their inside jokes, the subtle glances they exchange and that relaxed feeling that fills them up during these quiet moments.

 

Hannibal says nothing, he just sips more of his wine, emptying the glasses before getting up to turn off the oven, checking what is inside of it to make sure it's ready. Will can't take his eyes off of him. Hannibal's mesmerizing when he is in his natural element, like a few layers of his armor are peeled off, allowing him to see underneath the surface, to dissect what he finds there and learn more about him.

 

They are both men far too used to hiding to stop so suddenly, men with such deep pits of darkness in their lives that they can't help but conceal them, even from one another. To be allowed to experience this... it's something Will is still learning to handle.

 

“So, what is your confession then?”

 

“I think we have a friend in common. I hesitated bringing it up before because I wasn't completely sure, but Aleksandra told me you are a quite close friend of Alana Bloom, is that right?”

 

Will is genuinely surprised by the revelation.

 

“You know her too?”

 

“Yes, I do. I was her mentor during her internship. We have known each other for many years, I consider her a close friend as well. Funny, how close we have always been, and yet our path never crossed before that fateful day at Aleksandra's school.”

 

For a moment, Will says nothing. He feels almost numb, like he's struggling to pierce together all these new details of their lives and make sense of them. There is a sense of inevitability in knowing that, maybe they were always meant to meet each other, but the circumstances of their meeting decided their relationship.

 

It's easy to imagine Hannibal being friends with Alana. She fits perfectly in his world, with her expensive clothes, her education, her rich wife... he can picture her in these rooms so clearly it's frightening. And it makes Will feel even more out of place because he, on the other hand, doesn't belong there with him.

 

He's alien here, yet Hannibal wants him so badly, so strongly, that he accepts the uneasiness almost gladly.

 

His mind is trying to remember if they ever met before, even casually, and if that could explain why it has always been so easy from the start for them to fit together.

 

“You were at the wedding, right? Margot and Alana's. I think I remember you.”

 

Hannibal smiles, sitting back in front of him, looking so satisfied and almost elated about catching him off guard and having the chance to take advantage of it.

 

“You have a great memory, Will.”

 

“Yeah, right. Not really, to be honest. I wasn't really paying attention to anyone that day, Tiny was still a baby and took up much of my time. But... it's great that you know Alana, we could have dinner all together sometime.”

 

“Oh, yes. That would be very nice.”

 

Will smiles to himself when a sudden thought comes to him: it's only fair for him to have the last word this time, when he so often struggles to keep up with Hannibal and his games.

 

“Do you organize something like this for all your friends?”

 

Hannibal laughs, nodding, pleased at how bothered(?) he sounds.

 

“No, Will. This is just for you. The world might be small, and we might have to share so many layers of our lives with different people, but... this is just for you and no one else. It is still confusing to me why I feel so drawn to you, why I want to be part of your family so desperately, but I think that feeling is mutual, and that we could eventually overcome it together.”

 

Will takes a very deep breath.

 

“Sounds like you're trying to seduce me, Doctor Lecter.”

 

Hannibal runs a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp until Will sighs.

 

“And is it working?”

 

Will kisses him lightly on the corner of the mouth, but moves away before the man can deepen it. The frustration on his face is even more delicious than the food, and he enjoys every bite of it, tasting it just like he did with the cheese.

 

“Only time will tell, I guess.”

 

For a moment, Hannibal once again looks like he’s about to grab Will and pull him closer again. Will is reminded in these moments, that deep down Hannibal is still a dangerous predator, even when he’s hiding so well in sheep clothes. They are both enjoying the chase, the constant circling each other before they decide their next move.

 

Will realizes, with a smile, that it makes him feel alive.

 

\---

 

They move back to the dining room once the aperitif is over, to finally start the real dinner. Hannibal goes to put on fresh clothes that smell clean and straight out of the laundry, while Will takes off his tie and jacket to be as casual as the other man is.

 

Then, for a while, he's left alone to wait.

 

Being in that room and sitting at that table without Tiny feels weird, like something important is missing, and that there's too much silence around them despite the classical music the man put on.

 

Will wonders if she's asleep in her little bed, peacefully lost in her dreams, and misses her again. He has to resist the temptation of calling her or even worse of running away to go back to his little girl. He might distract himself with the games he and Hannibal like to play, but Aleksandra never leaves his mind.

 

“A penny for your thoughts?”

 

Will smiles.

 

“I was just thinking about Tiny, wondering if she's sleeping well. She's very independent, of course, but still gets a little nervous when I'm not there at night...”

 

“It is normal for you to worry about her, that's what good parents do. But now, please relax, Will. Focus on the food. I am sure you are hungry.”

 

And he is, he realizes once the plate is finally put in front of him, and the scent of the food reaches his nostrils. The appetizers were delicious, but didn't fill him up very much. So he keeps smiling and nods, observing Hannibal as he opens a new bottle of wine, fills his glass and then goes to sit next to him, at the head of the table.

 

Everything goes quiet around them for a long moment, as if sound was drained out of the room suddenly, leaving nothing between them but the weight of the look that passes between them. Very slowly, Will touches Hannibal's hand with the tip of his finger, receiving the brightest of smiles.

 

It feels electric when their skins meet, it does every single time.

 

“So, what are we eating?”

 

Hannibal clears his throat and quickly puts his perfect host mask back on again, hiding the sudden wave of desire that filled him behind it.

 

“Risotto with pumpkin, mushrooms and taleggio. Paired with a white wine to enhance the flavor. I do try to keep my cooking simple when Aleksandra is here, but since we are alone tonight, please forgive me if this time I did not. Having you here on your own is a special treat I want to enjoy as much as I can.”

 

Will laughs, before finally taking a bite. He smiles to himself while he chews slowly, forcing himself to savor the food in his mouth fully instead of digging right into it as he usually does. He wants to see Hannibal react to his gesture, he wants to feel that thrill of control and intense connection between them that has been such a big part of their attraction to each other so far. 

 

And when he looks up to him again, Will sees the man devouring him with his eyes. Hannibal almost never looks as wild as he does now, with a glimmer reflected in his gaze that almost throws Will off and becomes nearly unsettling when he licks his lips, like he has to restrain himself from giving in to that urge.

 

Surprising even himself, Will smiles even more widely once he swallows and dabs his lips lightly. He feels suddenly completely sure of himself, a power in his hands to manipulate Hannibal's emotion that he never realized he had before, until now. He relaxes then.

 

“Your food is so good that I feel inclined to forgive you. This time, at least.”

 

Hannibal closes his eyes for a second, inhaling deeply like he's trying to firmly write inside his mind the memory of his scent, the look on his face and the atmosphere around the two of them. Will always feels so overwhelmingly tense, strained and attracted to those feelings at the same time when Hannibal keeps his eyes on him and there's that bridge open between them that allows all their emotions to pass between one another.

 

And he feels beautiful, when he sees himself through Hannibal. It's new and terrifying in ways he's still trying to understand, but the pure adoration he reads there is real, true and burns through Hannibal, reaching him with its warmth. They are so linked, so intertwined already that Will isn't sure he could break free of him even if he tried.

 

And the fact is, of course, that he's not trying at all.

 

Hannibal smiles in the end, and there is a shining right out of the corner of his eyes that makes Will understand that he knows exactly what he was just thinking about.

 

“Then I feel more confident that you'll also like the rest of the dinner. The next course will be quite a heavy meat dish. I am told that cooking meat is... my specialty.” 

 

Will can't help laughing at the apparently serious and solemn tone in his voice.

 

“I am sure I will.”

 

It's unsettling to feel so close, so magnetically attracted to someone he knows so little of, to a man that smells of darkness and that goes to such lengths to conceal it. He thinks of Aleksandra once again. He remembers how much and deeply she trusts Hannibal despite all the man is hiding.

 

And Will decides that, for tonight, he's going to trust him too.

 

\---

 

Hannibal wasn't lying or exaggerating his skills, of course. The risotto is great, and the taste of it still pleasantly lingers in the back of his mouth, but the roast beef that follows it, it's on a whole new level.

 

Will can't remember the last time he ate so well and with as much enthusiasm as he's doing now, and the evening is going so well that his mood is constantly improving. Even his longing for Tiny is more bearable when he's distracted by the food, by Hannibal and by the atmosphere around them.

 

“I almost hate how good at cooking you are, to be honest. I have never been a big eater, but right now I feel like I could eat the whole pot.”

 

Hannibal smiles, as usual beaming every time he's able to earn some kind of praise from Will. He looks like one of those cats that proudly present their owners with dead birds or mice, expecting treats and eternal gratitude in return.

 

Of course, he has the advantage of his amazing cooking, though Will still isn't sure what his true motive for all this is.

 

“I wouldn't stop you. You could use to gain a few more pounds. And thank you for your words; I shall consider them compliments.”

 

“They are. By the way, are you saying I should put on some weight?”

 

Hannibal regards him for a long moment as he sips his wine, before eating more of the food in his plate, then smiling to him, his eyes shining in the candlelight around them.

 

“As I said, a couple more pounds wouldn't hurt you. And I suspect that your frantic lifestyle and your work with the FBI are the reason why you don't pay much attention to food anyway, right?”

 

Will just shrugs, saying nothing and eating a few more bites of the roast beef, before it starts getting cold. The meat is tender and juicy in his mouth, cooked to perfection, but it has a peculiar taste that he just cannot place. He almost wants to ask Hannibal what kind it is, but stop himself when he looks up and meets his gaze again.

 

There is something different in his eyes, something almost dangerous. Hannibal stares at him eating the meat he cooked for them like a hunter, proudly showing off the results of his outing.

 

It's like they are finally sharing something that is deep and meaningful, but that only Hannibal can understand, and being kept in the dark is something Will always hated. He swallows and then drinks some water.

 

“This is... delicious. You need to give me the address of your butcher, maybe I could get some of this for Tiny, I'm sure she'll love it. What is this meat by the way? It's delicious.”

 

Hannibal's grin becomes even wider, and he even chuckles a little, exposing his teeth like one of the sharks in Aleksandra's books.

 

“It's just beef, Will. But it was of a very rare and special animal, I was told. One of a kind, really. I am sure it's all sold out by now.”

 

Will nods and allows the subject to be dropped, focusing on finishing his meal and trying to understand why the look in Hannibal's eyes and his words were so unsettling to him, why suddenly the air around them became cold and his senses, once again, screamed for him to run away. He knows he has to be careful with a man like Hannibal, but it never hit him this hard.

 

It takes him another glass of wine and seeing the man return to his usual self to calm down.

 

“So, can I ask you something? Or do you want to keep that mysterious European aura thing going on for a while longer?”

 

Hannibal laughs, always genuinely amused by his humor.

 

“Please, Will, ask away.”

 

“Why did you leave Europe for America? Was there a particular reason?”

 

Hannibal takes his time to answer. He refills both their glasses, slowly cleans his lips of any residue and then takes a long sip of wine, with Will hanging on the edge of his seat, too curious to see what his reply is going to be to look away.

 

“I wanted a change of scenery, I guess, new opportunities somewhere I had no roots and where I did not know anyone. Maybe you can understand how I felt.”

 

He nods, remembering himself when he moved to Virginia to start a new life. Only, unlike Hannibal, he wasn't alone. He already had Tiny, and knew he was there to try to build a better future especially for her.

 

But he felt the same as Hannibal, otherwise: he wanted to go away and leave behind all that happened with Tiny's father, becoming a new person that could rise above that and never be haunted by his past ever again. He's not sure he succeeded in that, but at least he has a happy daughter, and now his life seems to be taking a sudden positive turn that surprises him.

 

Will rarely has nightmares these days, no matter what horrors Jack has him investigate or what follows him back home from work. He sleeps well, wrapped in a blanket of serenity he never wants to give up ever again.

 

“How old were you?”

 

“I was twenty five. I wasn't unhappy in France, in fact I still go there quite often when I have the chance, to see my uncle and aunt. But... memories linger, Will, no matter how much time has passed or how old you are. Some of them stain your soul and there is no way of getting rid of them. They contaminate everything around you if you let them, or if they are still so close to you that you cannot chase them away. That was how I felt when I decided to leave. I was offered a scholarship at John's Hopkins and simply took it. And in the end, I never went back. Maybe I thought I could persuade the ghosts of my past not to follow me here...”

 

Will smiles softly at him, but if he notices, Hannibal gives no sign of it. His eyes are once again far away, lost in a world that he still knows nothing of and that speaks so loudly of all the secret, hidden pain that the man carries with him, that too hidden behind his mask.

 

It's astonishing to him how deep his contradictions run and how hard it is for him to make sense of them. Hannibal is his darkness, his pain and his kindness all mixed together, and Will feels attracted to all of them equally, wants to sink his fingers into the deepest parts of his soul and see what he can find there.

 

And no matter what it'll be, he's almost sure that nothing could scare him away.

 

“And could you?”

 

One of the corners of Hannibal’s mouth raises just enough to be noticeable, making Will's even wider.

 

“I am not sure, to be honest. But, after all, who can truly be?”

 

Will nods, putting down his knife and fork in the empty plate in front of him, crossing his hands on his full stomach and relaxing against the back pf his chair, looking straight at Hannibal without faltering even when the man does the same, staring at him with that expression that reminds him of a scientist about to start picking apart a new guinea pig.

 

A shiver runs down his spine at that sight, one of curiosity, anticipation and fear that moves inside him all at the same time, like a tidal wave ready to crash over him and pull him under the water. He manages to resist biting his lips and doesn't even look away.

 

“So you came here to America, became a surgeon, then a psychiatrist... and you never returned to Europe permanently. It almost sounds like you were trying to run away from something.”

 

Hannibal inclines his head as he always does when he's considering Will with all his attention pointed straight at him, trying to read into him and uncover all his thoughts. But he's capable of raising his walls just as well as he is, and hides behind his polite smile and the absent expression in his eyes.

 

The man sighs deeply, but says nothing, giving him free room to keep pushing him.

 

“Were you? Trying to run away from something?”

 

“Yes, I suppose you could say that, Will. But aren't we all, in one way or another? We all have one single event in our lives that we feel destabilized everything and damaged it irremediably. One we desperately try to abandon in a mists of our pasts and erase from our minds. Only to find out that it'll never leave us.”

 

Will nods.

 

“What was for you?”

 

There is a very, very long pause, one of those that seem to stretch infinitely around the two of them, to wrap itself all over their skins without letting them go. Will can see Hannibal's brain trying to decide if he wants to answer or not, if this is the right time to expose himself this deeply in front of him.

 

It must be as hard for him as it is for Will, and he can see the words forming inside of him, hanging on his lips ready to come out, almost pushing against them. His eyes are so dark they almost look black, and there is an intensity in them that keeps Will on the edge of his seat.

 

But then, the moment passes, something moves in the room, breaking the fragile and quiet atmosphere around them, allowing Hannibal to retreat inside his fort once again, leaving him still hanging on the outside.

 

“Perhaps I will tell you another time.”

 

Will inhales deeply. He expected it, knew those words would come, and yet he's still filled by a sense of deep disappointment, like an important piece of the puzzle that is Hannibal Lecter was just within his grasp, but then escaped him. It fills his mouth with a bitter taste.

 

“You still don't trust me enough?”

 

Hannibal grins, but halfway stops to consider his words. His eyes are unreadable, dark like beads of glass.

 

“It isn't a matter of trust, Will. I trust you with my life, even after so little time, but I think there are specific moments for specific memories. And this was not the right one for that particular memory. It is something that I need to prepare myself to share with you.”

 

Then he drinks more of his wine, waiting for him to say something, and Will replies with a genuine smile that seems to ease the tense atmosphere between them. He doesn't need any more tension added to the one he's already feeling deep inside his guts, and that is twisting them violently as he considers what is going to happen between them tonight.

 

“It's okay. I get that. Can I ask something else then?”

 

“Of course, Will. Anything you want.”

 

“Why did you stop being a surgeon?”

 

Hannibal reacts to the question with a smile, his eyes closing only for a moment. Will could lose hours just looking at him, at the way his body bends and moves and at the kind of auras it irradiates following his emotions. He's made of flesh and bone just like Will is, but there's something in him that he never saw in anybody else: an elegance, a control and a secretly hidden brutality that always leaves him a little breathless.

 

“I killed someone, or more accurately I could not save them. And to me it felt like killing them. Years after, I realized that my desire to quit had been mounting for a while, but that particular case... I guessed it triggered it and made me finally decide to do it.”

 

Will nods. He tries to imagine a younger Hannibal with his hands deep into someone else, trying to save them desperately, his surgical gloves covered in blood. With a shiver, he realizes how easy it is to picture Hannibal like that.

 

The blood, especially.

 

“I'm sure that wasn't the first patient you lost. What was so hard to handle about it?”

 

Hannibal takes a very deep, very calculated breath that leaves them both hang in silence for a long moment, and Will can feel the tension coiling at the bottom of his spine, slowly rising up to his heart. He bites his lips, waiting and staying perfectly still.

 

“The patient was a child, a young girl a little older than Aleksandra. She was involved in a car accident and arrived at the hospital in desperate conditions. I did all I could, but she died anyway. At first, nothing felt different, but after a while... I realized how hard for me it was to keep on working, that it was slowly tearing me apart. So I decided to quit and to become a psychiatrist. I translated my passion for anatomy into the culinary arts. Now I fix minds instead of bodies, and no one dies as results of my therapy.”

 

The man smiles, and in his eyes Will can see a hint of relief. Maybe he feels lighter now that he shared this story with him, that he finally gave him something important about himself that he can use to understand him better. Will inhales deeply, then reaches out to run his fingers on the back of his hand, feeling Hannibal relax even further under his touch.

 

“It wasn't your fault that girl died. I'm sure you know that.”

 

“Of course I know, but, as I said, the truth is I wanted to quit even before that happened. Her death just helped me understand it.”

 

Will nods, and doesn't stop touching his hand even while he's lost in his thoughts, busy putting this new piece back into the puzzle of Hannibal he's putting together inside his mind. He knows there's something missing about that story, something the man isn't telling him, and that one, single element could be the true key to unlock the mystery that he is, but Will knows he won't get it tonight.

 

And he also knows that Hannibal is carefully feeding him everything he knows will make an impression on him and improve his image in Will's eyes. The grief-stricken doctor who abandons his previous profession after the death of a child, the gentle and caring man who looks after his daughter, the patient love interest.

 

It's all so perfectly calibrated and laid out right in front of him, but Will knows how to see under the mask, he closes his eyes and sees the edges of Hannibal tainted by a black, corrosive smoke that slowly unveils what he's hiding. Only, Will can't put into focus just yet.

 

But he's starting to wonder if what he might find there would matter or if he's too far wrapped into the layers of feelings that Hannibal stirs inside of him. He wants the man, the good man with kind eyes who kisses Aleksandra and plays with her, and he knows that that part of him is true despite all the rest.

 

Maybe, he'll find out that he can want and love the secret monster as well.

 

“You'll tell me who you lost one day, right?”

 

Hannibal looks surprised for a moment, taken aback by his words. Again, something hardens in his eyes, like he's not sure if he's supposed to attack to defend himself. But Will is still caressing his hand, still trying to comfort him. And so he allows the mask to fall back into place.

 

“I promised, didn't I?”

 

And Will is satisfied by that answer.

 

\---

 

“Aleksandra's birthday is in two weeks, I hope you'll remember.”

 

Hannibal smiles as he presents Will with another second course, a slice of salmon with fresh mushrooms and potatoes. He's really giving his best tonight, pampering Will in any possible way he can find, and the truth is, he enjoys watching him fuss and scheme to impress him.

 

It's endearing somehow.

 

Will feels so relaxed. The wine warms him up, the food fills his belly and Hannibal keeps his attention awake.

 

“Yes, she did mention it quite a few times when we last spoke a few days ago. And the one before that. A November baby, quite appropriate for her. She's going to turn five, isn't she?”

 

Will nods, then he takes a moment to close his eyes and savor the food spreading in his mouth. The fish is soft, perfectly cooked and delicious. He can't help licking his lips after.

 

“Yep. I know she looks a little older than she actually is, I think it's because I had to put her in school very early because of my work. Even though I still tried to be with her as much as possible, sometimes I think about of all moments I missed and that I'll never get back. About those Tiny will never get back.” 

 

“Actually, I think Aleksandra looks exactly her age, and having her start kindergarten very early was a very sound choice I think, socialization with other children is extremely important. She still has time to grow up and adapt even better, she did tell me she's finally making friends, which I think is very positive. You're doing a very fine job, Will. I am never going to stop reassuring you on that.”

 

Will looks at him for a long moment, before smiling and nodding. There are these moments in him, where Hannibal is nothing but honest. And he can read it so clearly in his eyes that it makes him hope.

 

“Thanks for that. And sorry, I didn't mean to off on a rant. I don't usually. I guess I just trust you enough to listen to me no matter what.”

 

Will takes a very deep breath and returns to the food for a while, feeling Hannibal's eyes on him, getting under his skin and sliding across it with their intensity. Sometimes he's not brave enough to face it, because he's afraid of what it could ignite inside of him.

 

“Anyway, Tiny's going to have a house party with all her friends and other acquaintances on the actual day of her birthday; you're invited to it of course.”

 

Hannibal laughs.

 

“I am honored, and of course I accept the invitation. Should I bring anything?”

 

“Only yourself. But... if you had time to make some of your wonderful food... I don't think anyone would mind.”

 

The man nods, and seeing him there, smiling as they talk over dinner, makes Will imagine how a whole life like that could be. Seeing him every day, waking him next to him, with Aleksandra finally having in her life more stability and happiness. It could be so good. So incredibly good that he's almost afraid to hope something like that could even happen to him.

 

“She also told me she'd like to have dinner with just the three of us, to celebrate her birthday of course, but maybe not just that.” 

 

Will can feel himself almost blushing when Hannibal brings his eyes back on him, and the whole weight of that intensity hits him. The color is so peculiar, it almost looks like blood in this light.

 

There's something in the way his mouth turns to grin at him that reminds Will of a painting of the devil he once saw in a book: seductive, mischievous and appealing all at the same time, trying to put sharp claws on his soul. Maybe that is what he's doing: selling his soul to a man he isn’t even sure he can trust.

 

“And what else would we be celebrating, Will?”

 

He smiles, and then sighs, with a glimpse of amusement still in his eyes.

 

“There have been so many things lately that are worth celebrating I think: that Tiny is doing so much better in school, that we met you and that you became such an important part of our life...”

 

Hannibal nods.

 

“You're right, Will. And I will be happy to join the two of you, of course. Am I required to bring food this time as well?”

 

They both laugh, and Will feels a complicity between them he has never experienced with anyone before. He never opened himself enough to another person to feel like this, but with Hannibal it comes so easily.

 

“Of course, we trust you to do your best.”

 

Will falls silent for a moment, watching him through half closed lids that almost blur too much to see Hannibal clearly. Yet he does, he reads the expectant expression on his face, in the way his hands flex and relax on the table.

 

“Maybe there'll be more to celebrate after tonight...”

 

Hannibal understands what he means right away, of course. He comes closer, gently caressing his face and Will shivers because his hands are cold against his warm and almost fevered skin. He can smell Hannibal, the desire that clings to his skin. And can feel his own, equally strong, pounding in his chest.

 

“Oh? Is there something specific that you have in mind?”

 

His voice is both honey and poison, sweet and dangerous; Will can't resist it, doesn't even try to, because he knows that it'd be pointless now. So he reaches out to run a hand through his hair, bring him closer and kisses him, hard and deep, making him moan against his mouth.

 

Hannibal looks famished, and Will is almost sure he'll have something to sink his teeth into before the night is over.

 

“I guess we'll find out tonight.”

 

\---

 

They take coffee and dessert in Hannibal's study, much to Will's surprise. The man keeps lowering his standards for him, doing things he'd never do with his other guests, and all this to impress him. He feels oddly flattered, as he follows Hannibal through the dim lit corridors that go deep into the bowels of his house. Hannibal is ready to go to impressive lengths to win Will over tonight, because maybe he feels as well how important this evening has been so far.

 

Will takes a deep breath, trying to relax while he's left alone in the room, Hannibal gone to retrieve their food from the kitchen and certainly finishing the last preparations to really woo him. It makes him smile, to see him fuss about him so much, giving him way more attention than he receives from Will, and more than he feels like he deserves.

 

No one ever made him feel as special, as wanted and needed as Hannibal does. It's worrying how much Will is starting to become addicted to that feeling, to the knowledge that Hannibal is ready to do almost everything to please him. It gives him an amount of power he's not entirely sure how to use.

 

So he walks through the room, observing it and trying to read something about Hannibal from the feelings it gives him. It looks a lot like his office: luxurious almost to the point of being excessive, but not quite there yet, comfortable, practical and lived in way more than the rest of the house. 

 

Will can imagine Hannibal relaxing in here, kicking away his shoes to take a nap on the couch, where a blanket is resting on the pillows, or reading a book in front of the fireplace. Will smiles to himself again. He can be a normal man too, with his hobbies, quirks and habits. There's a book on the coffee table, a collection of magazines next to it. It's all almost too pedestrian for a man like him.

 

He walks to the desk, attracted like a moth to a flame to the pile of drawings resting on it. Will knew Hannibal enjoys painting and drawing, the man told him during one of his visits to his office, but he had no idea he was this good.

 

There's a naked, faceless woman climbing the stairs, the details of all the shadows on her body so perfect it looks like she might come alive any second; a still life with fresh fruits and dying leaves mixed together, and then an old man smoking a pipe and playing chess, wrinkles of concentration and worry spreading across his old, battered face.

 

Will feels suddenly completely immersed into a secret world inside Hannibal he had no idea about. He's a good observer. He stares, stalks and then captures on paper what he sees with frightening ability.

 

He catches sight of the scalpel he uses to sharpen his pencils, of the drawing of a young, wounded man, with countless of weapons hammered into his body, but with an expression of absolute peace on his face. The picture is impressive, crude and delicate at the same time: death and elegance all fused into one. 

 

That stirs something into him, an old memory that triggers an immediate warning he can't quite place, because his mind is full of wine, food and overwhelmed by Hannibal's talent.

 

I've seen this before, I just don't know where right now... I can't remember.

 

And he'd never remember, not tonight at least, because then his eyes fall on the sheet right under it, and on the two figures drawn on it. It does take Will a long moment to realize who they are, but when he does, his chest is filled by an odd mixture of awe and embarrassment he can't hide and that lights up his cheeks with a flush.

 

Hannibal made a drawing of him and Tiny, with him holding the sleeping little girl in his arms, gently cuddling her with an expression of serenity and happiness on his face that softens his features to the point Will struggles to recognize himself. Hannibal took away all the weariness, all the pain from his body to replace it with such a deep, beautiful peace he feels almost weak looks at him.

 

And then there's Aleksandra: her soft curls pressed against his shoulder, the sweet pout of her mouth and her small hands clinging to him. There's a love in that drawing that is nowhere to be found in all the others. It reminds Will of those paintings of the Virgin Mary holding the Holy Child he used to stare at for hours in church. Hannibal took him and his daughter, and elevated them to an almost sacred level of worship. And this shakes him, because he never thought somebody could look at him and see such beauty.

 

Hannibal must've watched them for so long, memorizing all the details of their faces, of their expressions, and then translating it on paper in delicate strokes of black carbon. Suddenly, the paper feels heavy in his hands, because the feelings it generates are almost too much.

 

“Oh. You were not supposed to see that until I finished it.”

 

He looks up to meet an amused, proud and almost giddy Hannibal smiling at him, and once again feels trapped by the strength in those eyes.

 

The man puts the tray he's carrying on the coffee table, then walks up to him, a soft grin on his face, his eyes shining red. Will feels the same urgency to runaway that sometimes grips him when they are together, but he's too busy staring at him to give in to it.

 

What else has he seen during the long hours he spent dissecting him and Tiny to put them in his drawings? How much he learned from them without him being aware of that? The questions run so fast inside his head that Will realizes he's shaking. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

 

He's not sure why this is messing him up so much.

 

“It's... beautiful. Wow, you're... very talented. I wasn't expecting to find something like this.”

 

His voice is oddly thin, and Hannibal sighs by his side. He must be giving away all the conflicting emotions that are filling him up, because the look on Hannibal’s face is concentrated, but also unsure on how to proceed.

 

“I was going to give you the finished painting of this for Christmas. Tiny has been so kind to gift me her works, that I wanted to reciprocate the gesture. And I thought, perhaps, you and Aleksandra would appreciate something a little different than a simple photograph. But maybe, judging from your expression, I was wrong.”

 

The flash of memories that bring him back to Aleksandra’s other father hits him again, stronger than it did before. He imagines him in Hannibal's place, drawing him and their daughter. He never did it before because he was afraid of falling back into the back hole that was that part of his life.

 

But he realizes how different this is. Hannibal, even with his secrets and darkness, draws them with affection, with love, even. He's asking nothing in return for this gift, even though Will can tell he's still an excellent schemer. The other man would pour all his sick, unsavory obsession into that drawing, there would be no love in it.

 

So in the end, Will smiles.

 

“No, you weren't wrong. I love it, it's beautiful, really. I can't wait to see it finished; I'm sure Tiny is gonna adore it too. Thank you.”

 

Hannibal puts a hand on his lower back, pulling him closer. Their eyes meet, and his are like a dark, dangerous ocean, ready to engulf Will and never let him go. And Will wants to abandon himself, let the current swing him around and drown him gently.

 

“But I can see it upset you somehow. And I am sorry for that. I will not continue to work on it if it makes you feel like this...”

 

Will sighs heavily. Hannibal is warm against him, and he clings to that heat to chase away the cold ghosts that still follow him around. He shakes his head and tries to smile and relax in his arms, wrapped in that apparent safety he can only feel with him.

 

“It wasn't your fault, really. Just bad memories once again. The drawing is beautiful and I want that painting. So don't you even think about dropping it, okay?”

 

Then he kisses him, slow and deep, caressing his clean shaved cheek, his perfectly combed hair, allowing Hannibal to hold him so close he can hear his heart beating against his chest. With Tiny's father, he felt out of place, wrong and trapped, almost suffocating under the pressure. 

 

Hannibal might be a dangerous man, but with him, Will feels free.

 

When they part, at last, Hannibal nods, caressing his face with his long, elegant fingers. His eyes are gentle now, and Will smiles at him.

 

“Would you draw me if I ask you? Just me? Or is accepting commissions against your work ethic?”

 

Will relaxes in his arms when he laughs, his large hand resting against his neck.

 

“I would do anything you asked me, Will. Your wish is my command.”

 

“Good. I'll make sure to remember.”

 

Hannibal can't resist kissing him again, sucking on his lower lip and keeping him firmly close to himself, running his hand through his hair and pulling at them a little to get more access to his mouth. Will moans into the kiss and is breathless when it's over. He knows what the other man wants, what he hopes will happen between them.

 

And Will knows how deeply he has been starving for that as well, but tries to appear unassuming and just smiles again.

 

The man takes a step back and inhales deeply, like he wants to sear the memory of Will’s scent and the way he feels firmly in his mind, so it'll not be able to escape. Then his expression becomes more serious.

 

“Will you ever tell me what bothered you so much about the drawing? I already suspect what it could be... but I want to hear it from you.”

 

Will focuses his eyes on the shelves of the library, on the burning fireplace and once again he can almost feel the floor disappearing under his feet.

 

“Are you asking?”

 

Hannibal tilts his head, a sharp and hard gaze fixated on him. Will reads a sudden wave of doubt in him, like he's not entirely sure he wants to ruin this moment between them with his hungry curiosity. In the end, though Will's already bracing himself against the question, he shakes his head.

 

“I trust you to know when the time is right, and I know it is not tonight. So no, I am not asking.”

 

He smiles and nods, suddenly grateful.

 

“Come on, let's have dessert or the coffee's gonna get cold.”

 

He feels Hannibal's eyes firmly on his back while walks to the coffee table and the couch, almost burning through his clothes to get directly to his skin.

 

\---

 

Will is halfway through his second slice of Caprese, his mouth and lips stained by the dark chocolate, the sweet taste spreading through him and it makes him pleasantly pliant and relaxed, when Hannibal finally makes his move.

 

He seems to have the habit of bringing up delicate subjects while he's concentrated and busy with his food. Which is smart, because since he doesn't get to eat such fine meals very often, he focuses on them completely.

 

But Hannibal, sitting next to him on the couch while sipping his coffee, is looking at him with that same expectant and almost famished look in his eyes. Will catches sight of him licking his lips right before he starts talking.

 

“It's getting quite late, Will...”

 

He puts the empty plate down, wiping his lips and then relaxing against the pillow behind his back. Will looks up at Hannibal with a grin on his face, with his eyes alight with the sudden need to play with him just like he always does.

 

Hannibal likes to catch him off guard, to corner him so he won't have anywhere to go but deeper into the nest he's building all around him. But he loves it even more when Will fights back, so even though a sudden confusion appears on his features for a second, he catches up quickly and smiles back.

 

“Are you politely asking me to leave because you're sick of me already?”

 

Will runs his fingers on the back of his hand, hearing him inhaling deeply. Hannibal starts to reply, but he stops him.

 

“Or do you want me to stay the night?”

 

Hannibal stares at him for quite a long time, in perfect silence. Being so close to finally getting what they both want, what they have been wanting for a long time, is almost surreal in the way it feels. It creeps up on them slowly, filling their bodies and making them aware of every nerve that feeling exposes, uncovering all the hidden desires hidden beneath the skin.

 

Will bites his lips and leans a little close to him, until they're touching and Hannibal smiles at him. This is going to change everything forever, it will give to their relationship a completely new direction. And now it's time to decide if they're both ready for it or not.

 

“Of course I think it would be better for you to sleep here. I am sure it is very cold outside, and you had quite a few drinks... I could very easily prepare the guestroom for you, and you could drive back home tomorrow. Or are you worried about Aleksandra?”

 

He thinks about how this decision is also going to change Tiny's world. They never needed anyone else before, they had their family and that was enough. Will didn't trust the world enough to let strangers in anyway, because all it takes it one single moment of distraction to destroy everything. He knows it far too well.

 

So what makes Hannibal so special? And the answer is, simply, that he is special to Tiny. She loves him, trusts him, welcomed him in her little life right away. And that makes him important for Will too.

 

He smiles.

 

“She'll be fine, Abigail is a very trustworthy friend and babysitter. And you're right, I should not be driving after drinking so much...”

 

Hannibal is, of course, circling around the main question expertly, trying to make Will admit what he really wants. He's so good at exposing Will's desires, his need to be fucked hard and finally feel fully close to someone else after so long. He runs a hand on his arm, like he wants to warm him up, but it actually sends a shiver down his spine that speaks of how deeply they want each other.

 

Will reads in his eyes that Hannibal feels the same, that he's afraid of taking this step, but can't hold himself back anymore. All they need is a little push, and they'll fall down into the black sea beneath them.

 

“It's decided then. You'll stay here tonight. Should I go prepare the room for you?”

 

The only answer Will gives him is a long, deep kiss. He spread his mouth for him, almost groaning when Hannibal finally kisses back, pinning him against the couch and running his hands everywhere in his body, caressing him until they both moan. 

 

Hannibal kisses him like he wants to devour him, and Will can't help thinking what it'll feel like to be swallowed by the beast inside him. He runs his fingers on Hannibal’s face, receiving kisses on the tips when they hover over his mouth.

 

He's dangerous, don't let him in, Will’s brain desperately screams its warning one more time, and something inside his head itches at the attempt to remember something crucial that is escaping him.

 

But Hannibal silences it all with another kiss that leaves him breathless.

 

“Why don't you take me to bed instead? Isn't that what you want too?”

 

The man laughs against the soft and sensitive skin of his neck.

 

“Oh, Will. I have been wanting this for quite a long time... and I suspect you know this very well. But I do need to ask you if you are sure, truly sure of this. I won't force you, if you say no.”

 

The question tastes just like Will imagines a deal with the devil would. You can pretend you have a choice, that you're deciding out of pure free will. But how true is that? He's not sure.

 

But he wants this too much to turn back now. So he kisses Hannibal again.

 

“Shut up and fuck me already.”

 

And Hannibal, the devil, smiles.

 

\---

 

Hannibal's bedroom looks so different now. When Tiny was there with them, Will barely paid any attention to it, but now he's drawn to every painting on the wall, to the furniture  
that surround them. His eyes stop on the armor in the corner for a long time, while the man moves behind him silently. One day, he'd love to hear the story behind it, to know why someone who loves to flaunt his culture and the luxury of his lifestyle as much as he does keeps such a beautiful artifact where no one can see it.

 

To Will, it speaks of hidden and intimate secrets that he wants to sink his teeth in almost as much as Hannibal wants to do with his own. Then his eyes flicker to the big bed that occupies most of the space.

 

A fire starts warming up the room while Will stares at the navy sheets, at the decorated panels that surround the headboard and his mind can't help wondering how he'll look spread on it, skin white against the staggering dark linen. His runs a hand on them, and the texture is so soft under his fingers. For one moment, he's afraid to go through with this once again, because everything seems to be moving so fast inside his head he can't seem to make sense of it.

 

But then Hannibal comes closer, presses himself against his back and starts kissing his neck. His eyes are liquid and deep when he turns around to face him, his mouth is warm when Will kisses him, and in that contact he forgets, can't help but let everything go because he needs this, he needed this for a long time, but never allowed himself to give in until now.

 

Now he'd let Hannibal do everything to him without complaining, because his skin is hungry and electric. And all he wants is to be touched.

 

Hannibal runs his fingers on his face, through his hair, pulling them lightly to keep him close, and to make Will moan in the next kiss they share. He's warm, solid and real against him. He's the first man in years to touch Will and make him come alive like this, and he can't help how enthusiastic and needy he is.

 

But then Hannibal gently pushes him away slightly, and they stay like that for a moment, foreheads touching and breaths mixing together. Will wants to kiss him again, but instead he waits, even though his tongue flickers out from time to time to meet his lips.

 

They're still close enough so he can whisper against his lips when he finally speaks again.

 

“You can still say no, Will. I would not complain at all. Are you sure you want this?”

 

Will is so lost in his own desire, so deep inside the atmosphere of lust that is thick and strong around them, that he barely registers his words. But rolls his eyes and slides his hands on Hannibal’s chest, pushing himself forward to kiss his neck.

 

“Just shut up, and fuck me already.”

 

Hannibal regards him for a while, his eyes scanning his body, its reactions to the way he's looking at him, to how his skin trembles and shivers when he runs his hands over it. Once again, Will feels like a specimen. Something Hannibal is about to tear apart so he'll be able to see exactly how he works, or maybe just because he enjoys breaking down people as much as objects. Will isn't sure yet.

 

But then his gaze softens, fills with a sudden kindness that keeps destabilizing him, but that he still accepts.

 

And, in the end, Hannibal laughs against his throat.

 

The man undresses him slowly, taking his time and measuring every action perfectly to drive him crazy with anticipation, but still keeping on the edge and constantly waiting his next move. He has big, strong hands that caress, stroke, reveal and worship Will’s body as his clothes fall on the floor, which seems to him so shocking because the room is so apparently perfect it feels almost wrong to mess it up like that.

 

But Hannibal doesn't seem to mind.

 

“You have many scars, Will.”

 

“That... tends to happen when you do a dangerous job.”

 

Hannibal says nothing.

 

He kisses the stab wound on Will’s shoulder, the hole left behind by the single gunshot wound that Abigail's father managed to put in him before he emptied his gun; he shudders at the memory, clenching his teeth as pain and disgust fill him for a moment, but comes back to himself when Hannibal caresses the C-Section scar on his abdomen, left there by Tiny's birth.

 

That one scar he loves, and the man reads it in his eyes. So he looks away because sometimes confronting those feelings and the memories they come with is still too hard and too intense for him even after all these years. Hannibal kisses his temple, his hand flat on top of the scar, the heat of his skin sipping through the touch.

 

“Many marks that came from death and violence; and one that brought life and joy to you. You must be proud of your scars, Will. You have a fine collection that reminds you that the past is real, and that you survived it. And your daughter gave you the best of them.”

 

Will feels so overwhelmed, so full of emotions he's not fully sure he understands and knows how to put into words. He kisses Hannibal again because there's nothing else he can do, kisses him so hard he knocks breath out of both of them. 

 

Hannibal is hard too, he can feel his stiff cock pressing against his leg, and the whole world spins around him, both because of the lust pumping through his veins, and because of his incredible the experience of knowing someone sees and understands him exists and is there in front of him, keeping him in his arms.

 

No one ever made him feel like this. No one ever made him want and need as much as Hannibal is able to do right now. There's a kindness in the way his hands move on him, while at the same time almost digging inside his skin to get what they really want, that contrasts the feral hunger in his eyes. 

 

Will allows Hannibal to push him on the bed, flat on his back and almost painfully tense as Hannibal finishes undressing him, taking off his pants and his underwear, until he's naked and shivering on top of the covers. The man slides between his open thighs, and the friction of the clothes against his skin in delicious. He runs a finger on Will’s chest, circling his nipples and his navel, before stopping right above his pubes, making Will bite his lips and try to move against him.

 

“Why am I naked while you're not?! That's hardly fair, isn't it?”

 

Hannibal laughs, before kissing him again, licking his swollen mouth and tasting him just like a good wine he had been saving for a while, one that only now he's allowed to drink. How can he maintain such a good appearance of self-control while he's dying and screaming for more, why can't Will be like him, instead of the aroused mess he is now? Hannibal tries to look normal, to hide the little shivering of his hands, but he can't hide the savage look in his eyes.

 

“All in good time, Will. All in good time.”

 

Will fidgets with his finger a little, almost embarrassed by the situation.

 

“It's just that... I want to touch you. To make you feel good.”

 

Hannibal smiles gently.

 

“You told me you haven't been with anyone in a long time... is that true?”

 

Will looks away, but nods as he puts his hands on either side of his head, like he doesn't know exactly what to do with them. 

 

“And do you trust me?”

 

Hannibal's voice is honey against his skin, it covers him and seeps inside of him, filling him with its sweetness. Even a question like that, so heavy and complicated, becomes less frightening like this.

 

“Yeah, I trust you.”

 

“Then let me make you feel good. After all this time, I think you deserve to be taken care of. There is time for both of us and for our pleasure. I promise I will not disappoint you.”

 

Will went by easily for years without sex. He never felt any true need for it, and he didn't miss sleeping with someone, especially after his horrible past experience. He missed the intimacy, having someone by his side in the morning, someone he could cling to and raise his child with. But the physical part of that desire was just a faint and very removed itching, something he barely paid attention to.

 

His work was more important, Tiny was more important. And all those things firmly occupied his mind, chasing out all the rest.

 

But now, with Hannibal moving between his legs, his hands and mouth pressing on his skin, and the strong, solid and warm presence on his body, Will suddenly feels like he’s on fire, like every feeling and every fantasy he ever had are exploding all together behind his closed eyes.

 

Maybe Hannibal is just very good at driving him crazy. He knows where to touch and kiss to awake every sensation Will had forgotten and use it to make him pliant and needy in his arms. Or maybe Will had been starving for this for years, but never allowed himself to taste all this again because he was afraid of losing track of himself, of his sanity and his lucidity just to feel good.

 

He had Aleksandra to think about. His choices didn't impact only him, but his child as well. He was too scared to trust someone who could destroy him again, suck him into his obsession and this time refusing to let him go.

 

It's easy for him to get lost in dreams, in nightmares, in a world so far away from reality he struggles to come back to it. But he's awake now. This is not a dream.

 

This him choosing Hannibal.

 

The man licks the inside of his thighs, kisses the soft flesh behind his knee, and even though his back hurts and makes him moan in pain, Will doesn't tell him to stop. Not even when he pushes his legs back until he's almost folded in two on the bed. Hannibal has big, strong and calloused hands, but he still knows how to maneuver Will carefully, sliding across his sensitive skin like a feather.

Will allows himself to go slack and relaxes completely on the bed, his mind clear and focused on nothing but what he's feeling: long, elegant fingers with just a hint of roughness mapping his skin, and Hannibal looking at him like he's the most perfect creature on Earth. 

 

He could dangerously get used to feeling like this.

 

Hannibal does everything at an agonizingly slow pace, like he wants to maximize Will’s pleasure and his frustration as much as he can, to drive him crazy. Hannibal takes him so close to complete abandonment, then retreats, leaving him wanting more. The man doesn't touch his dick, does nothing but dance over his skin until Will is grinding his teeth and taking long, deep breaths to stay calm.

 

He doesn't want this to be over too soon, but at the same time he just wants to be fucked, to be taken and owned and remember what it feels like to be so alive.

 

“Are you ever going to get naked and let me touch you? This is... really going too far already. Aren't you uncomfortable?”

 

Will manages to twist enough to brush his knee against Hannibal's stiff cock, still trapped in his pants. The man sighs, and then looks up from where he was busy kissing his side, his eyes glowing with amusement.

 

“You're quite impatient, Will.”

 

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and pressing his palms hard against his closed eyes, feeling once again about to give up some new information that will leave him even more exposed and vulnerable, that is going to give way more power to Hannibal.

 

“I haven't done this in such a long time, at least... three years, I think. And, you know, I never really missed it, before. I never wanted anyone to touch me.”

 

There is a pause hanging in the air, there's Hannibal scanning his face with his vulture eyes, ready to strike and start devouring him. But Will can't stop now.

 

“But this is different. You are different. I can't even explain why, exactly, but I need this so badly. And I need you. I want you to make me feel good.”

 

Will caresses him with trembling hands, his words a little more than a soft whisper, barely audible. But Hannibal heard him perfectly, and smiles at him widely enough to expose his teeth and making him gasp.

 

For a moment, they hang in a perfect silence that keeps stretching around them even when Hannibal rises to meet him, his forehead pressed against Will’s, and then kissing him and holding him down against the mattress. Hannibal’s eyes are so dark and deep, Will can see himself perfectly in them, can feel Hannibal's desire echoing his own, and sighs deeply when the man licks his lips and gives him another of his knowing grins.

 

There's a lot he still doesn't understand about him, but he knows that Hannibal wants him, and for now it's enough.

 

“Then I promise not to disappoint you...”

 

And he doesn't, of course. When Hannibal, at last, takes him in his mouth, Will has the weird feeling of being harshly thrown back to the reality of his body after floating in a bubble that numbed him to it. He feels how painfully hard he was, and in that moment of sudden relief, he can't help the long moan that escapes his mouth.

 

Hannibal looks up for a moment, his eyes flickering as he bobs up and down on his cock, slowly enough to keep teasing him, but at the same time finally giving him what he wants. The man is capable of making Will forget everything, even himself, but then he drags him back to the present, and only then Will realizes how deep in Hannibal’s hands he is, how dependent on what he makes him feel he's becoming.

 

The pleasure is not just strictly physical, but comes together with being finally able to put his head back, lock the world and its problems outside, and abandon himself to this new, sweet pleasure that grabs him and doesn't want to let him go.

 

Will closes his eyes, feeling all his limbs almost painfully stretched as if they're trying to reach out to hold on to Hannibal and force him to stay there forever, to keep making him feel like this for the rest of their lives. A whole life with him... with a man with piercing eyes that can skin your soul alive to reveal all he's hiding underneath, with someone who understands him and sees him, who loves what he sees no matter what.

 

Hannibal digs his nails into the soft flesh of his thighs, keeps licking and sucking him until Will is reduced to an incoherent mess, with his mind blissfully blank and every doubt cast aside for now. Maybe this is what being eaten alive feels like, he wonders. For one beautiful moment, nothing else exists except the teeth tearing you apart. There's no pain, only that deep contact that erases everything else. It's frightening, but Will always had a fascination with fear and death, with the fine line that separates life from destruction, and instead of running away from that fear, he gives in to it, relishes it almost.

 

It feels so good and so intense it barely seems to be real, and when the orgasm hits him, almost creeping up on him and surprising him, Will is pretty sure he screams out loud, his hands pulling at Hannibal's hair hard enough to hurt him. 

 

There is a long, almost eternal moment where nothing moves, and Will feels like is almost afraid to breathe and break it. All he can hear is his own blood pounding in his ears, the feeling of his own body shivering and coming down from the shock of the orgasm that is still shaking through his limbs. He feels too full and too empty at the same time, without feeling as if he's about to fall down and never touch the ground again. 

 

But Hannibal is still there, warm and caressing him gently. Will feels his hand on his skin, gently caressing him and bringing him back to him, guiding him with the warmth that comes from him. When Will opens his eyes, he can see that Hannibal is smiling.

 

Will reaches out again and gently touches his face, only with the tip of his fingers. Hannibal closes his eyes, intercepting Will’s hand and placing small kisses on it, before finally moving up again and lying down next to him. He looks so beautiful to him, maybe because he's still high of the endorphins that are still running through his veins, or maybe just because right now he feels so in love with Hannibal that all his fears have been wiped away.

 

He can't decide which one is it, doesn't even know what to hope for. All he knows is that he sees a sweet kindness in Hannibal's eyes, a hope for a better future with him, and all he can do is hope it's sincere and that he's not gambling his life and Aleksandra's in the most foolish way possible. 

 

They kiss, slowly. Hannibal is still mostly dressed, though his shirt is half unbuttoned and he has the red marks of his kisses and fingers all over his neck and collarbone. Will smiles to himself as he bites down on the soft flesh there, and the man moans.

 

“I didn't want to come so quickly... I'm sorry... just gimme a few minutes to recover, before we start again.”

 

Hannibal smiles.

 

“Oh, Will, don't worry. I wanted you to, you had not been touched for a long time, and your body was hungry for it. So taking some of those edges awa, will help you relax and truly enjoy yourself much more the second time...”

 

Will can't help bursting into a loud laugh, as he helps Hannibal to take off his shirt entirely, then watches him getting up and pulling his pants down at last. Will doesn't stare, or at least tries not to.

 

“God, is there anything you don't plan in advance?! Not even my orgasms are safe?”

 

He had meant it as a joke, something he and Hannibal could laugh about to ease the tension and the anticipation. Instead something suddenly goes very dark in the other man's eyes, and he stops half way through unfastening his slacks, staring down on him with his head tilted, like he's only now realizing something incredibly important.

 

Hannibal licks his lips a couple of times, closes his eyes for a moment as he takes a very long and very deep breath, then finally undressing completely and joining him again on the bed. There's an uncertainty in his hands now, as they run over his skin. Like he's not sure how to do it anymore and must learn once again.

 

“It is quite the opposite, Will. It doesn't matter how carefully I scheme and plan, how attentively I try to decide which way to go with you... you always catch me off guard and hit me right on the blind spot I had no idea I had. All planning is useless, because I am not capable of predicting you. Maybe that is why I like you so much.”

 

Will feels an immediate and sudden bout of tenderness for this man. He's as broken as I am, maybe even more, just better at hiding it. Yet he lets me in, lets me see him. I have him in the palm of my hand and I could destroy him so easily...

 

But Will only kisses him, holding him so close, rutting their naked bodies together until they're both breathless. Hannibal stares at him through glossy and unreadable eyes, but he's not afraid anymore.

 

“That's how I feel too, yeah. I try to tell myself I should be careful, that I shouldn't trust you as much as I do. Yet I can't stop myself... I can only hope trusting you isn't the worst mistake I'm ever going to make. For Tiny's sake... and ours.”

 

Hannibal breathes him in, nose rubbing against the sensitive skin behind his ear, kissing and following the trail until he's back to his mouth. They are so similar, so deeply linked by how alike they are that Will can't help but falling in love with him with every touch.

 

“What do you want, Will?”

 

It's a simple question, yet Will has no idea how to answer. His whole brain is so full he can barely make sense of the thoughts that keep running through it, almost invisible to him since they're so blurry.

 

It's looking at Hannibal that makes him realize that he doesn't need to think it over, that he didn't have to look for an answer, because it was right in front of him all along.

 

“You. I want you.”

 

And the smile that opens on Hannibal's face, for a moment, is everything he could ever hope for.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with a new chapter! Sorry, as usual, for being so slow.  
> A chapter full of Hannibal-feelings, which i know many will enjoy.  
> Let me know in a comment, or on tumblr, what do you think! :*

Hannibal wakes up slowly, which is unusual for him. It is as if his body is refusing to give up on the much needed and deserved sleep, and is trying to hold him back. So, he allows himself to remain completely still for a few more minutes, wrapped in the cocoon of blankets around him and in the warmth of the body lying next to his.

 

When he takes a deep breath and inhales the air in the room, he catches Will's scent right away, and he smiles to himself. It mixes the sour and faint smell of his sweat, with the almost sweet one of his skin. Will is still asleep of course, and his heavy and steady breathing is the only sound Hannibal focuses on, as if the whole world around them just disappeared.

 

He wants to open his eyes to look at him, to see what he looks like while's sleeping, but doesn't for the time being.

 

For now, Hannibal prefers to imagine him as he takes a moment to relive the previous night's events. He slips into his memory palace, abandoning reality. 

 

Things progressed much better and faster than he thought they would. Will is still studying him, deciding if he's safe and worthy to be trusted entry in his and his daughter's lives. Hannibal is aware of this, even during their most intimate moment there was a light in Will's eyes that seemed to still hang on to the doubts and fears he can't let go of just yet.

 

But it is of no matter for Hannibal. He has time to work his edges, to bring down the last forts he still has up. He can deal with the lingering frustration if it means keeping his eyes firmly on the prize Will and Aleksandra represent for him. 

 

Hannibal can still feel Will's skin under his fingers, the sweet sound of his voice ringing in his ears and see in front of his closed eyes the beautiful look of pure pleasure on Will’s face while they were fucking.

 

That was the final moment of truth for him. Seeing Will so desperate for his touch, so open and vulnerable under him and so eager for more in every sense of the word—it made him finally understand that Will wants him in his life, in his family. And that is all Hannibal cares about.

 

He has not completely abandoned his own doubts, though. He still doesn't know why he's fighting and trying so hard to become a part of their world, what he's looking for there. Yet he can't seem to focus on that anymore, not when he can still taste Will in his mouth and feel the warmth of his body so close, when his mind wanders off and he can lose himself imagining all the time he will get to spend with them.

 

And maybe... who knows? One day Will might be persuaded to join him even in his most hidden and secret part of his life. He would look even more beautiful covered in blood, relishing in the violence they could create together, and willfully eating the fruits of their exploits. It is only a dream, for now. But he can allow himself some ground for hope.

 

Yet he still cannot fit Aleksandra into this scenario of slowly planned corruption, could never imagine tainting her like that. Maybe that is why he has never taken any step into that direction. He never focused on Will's job, on trying to learn more about it so he could manipulate him better. He, instead, decided to pour the majority of his efforts on those parts of their relationships he can mostly control, and puts the rest firmly in the background.

 

Though the desire never quite leaves him.

 

Hannibal stirs, flexing his muscles and becoming aware of his body once again. He slips back into reality, and all the sounds and smells flood into him, regaining their rightful places and making him finally open his eyes. The room is half dark, the air thick with sleep, silence and memories. The clock on his bedside tell him it's not even eight o'clock.

 

He takes a very deep breath, and then a satisfied smile opens up on his face when he turns to look at Will, and finds him still deep in his slumber. His dark hair spilled on the pillow, a blissful expression on his features and a hint of a naked shoulder poking out of the duvet he's buried under.

 

Will Graham is beautiful—the thought hits him suddenly and fills him up completely. He is truly beautiful, and what Hannibal feels about having him there, only for him, is a strange kind of pride. I have him, he's mine, and no one will take him away from me.

 

With his mouth slightly open and his pale skin kissed by the morning light, Will reminds Hannibal of a baroque painting, wrapped in a complex chiaroscuro that brings the verses of the medieval Italian masters back to his mind. He reaches out to caress Will’s cheek, while committing the memory of him in his mind and imagining already how it'll look on paper.

 

The touch lasts only a moment, enough to remind Hannibal of how it felt to have him in his hands the night before, and it leaves almost a tingling sensation on his fingers, like the memory of a burn.

 

Hannibal wonders if Will has ever been told how beautiful he is, if somebody ever worshiped him as much as Hannibal intends to do from now on. He enjoys the thought of being the first to do that, but at the same time, he can't help but resent the universe for neglecting Will for so long. Well, he is determined to correct this mistake. 

 

He's still deeply lost in his thoughts when he notices that Will is smiling, even though his eyes are still closed and he's pretending to be still asleep. Hannibal sighs, moving slightly closer to him.

 

“Are you awake, Will?”

 

The younger man stirs, yawing and then finally looking at him with so much amusement in his eyes that it makes Hannibal instantly attracted to him all over again. Will’s eyes are alight with a sparkle he had never noticed before, and he's so relaxed and pliant that Hannibal feels that sting of pride once again, because he has the feeling that it might not happen very often. 

 

“I was waiting for you to notice actually. I must say I am disappointed, Doctor Lecter. You should not let your guard down like this...”

 

Will runs a hand over his chest, pulling him a little bit closer so he can rest his forehead against Hannibal’s own. Hannibal kisses him, holding him and rubbing his back slowly, feeling Will relax and melt in his arms. Then he puts his head in the crook of Will’s neck, inhaling his scent, kissing and licking the marks he left there the night before. The man moans, and he can't help grinning against his warm skin.

 

They look at each other for a moment, and Hannibal can't help the artistic fixation that forces him to intensely stare at Will’s wide and beautiful blue eyes, like a part of him is trying to steal their color, their intensity and the expression in them so he'll be able to reproduce it in one of his drawings. Maybe, through that, Hannibal is trying to steal his soul as well.

 

Will sighs, almost purring just like a cat, and Hannibal cannot stop himself from kissing him again. I'd kiss you savagely enough to devour and consume you, if I could—that is what he tells himself.

 

“Good morning, Will.”

 

“Mmh, morning. What time it is?”

 

Hannibal is pleased to hear there is no anxiety or rush in his voice. He knows Will is going to want to leave soon and go back to his child, and he understands that feeling. But he also wants to keep him with him for as long as he can.

 

“Still early, not even eight o'clock.”

 

The man nods, rubbing his eyes and then keeping them closed, all as Hannibal idly caresses him and keeps their half-naked bodies still firmly pressed together. Will smiles at him, letting go of all his defenses for the time being and fully enjoying being taken care of. He reaches into the touch and allows Hannibal everything he might want to do.

 

But then something passes behind his eyes, and he tenses a little bit. Hannibal can feel it in his muscles, in the look that opens on his face.

 

“I'll need to go back in a while. I was thinking of taking Tiny out for breakfast, since it's not a school day...”

 

“Have you tired of my company so quickly that now you cannot wait to be finally away from me? I am deeply wounded.”

 

Will laughs heartily, throwing his head back as much as their position on the bed allows and then relaxes once again in his grip. He looks so much like Aleksandra when he's smiling or laughing. They have the same delicate shine in their eyes, the same melancholia that always follows them around even when they are happy. Even the lines on their faces are similar.

 

It is a beautiful sight to behold.

 

The other man sighs, closing his eyes for a moment.

 

“If Tiny were here too, I wouldn't leave this bed for hours. Trust me...”

 

The way the sentence is left hanging leaves little room for imagination. Hannibal knows what he really wants to say instantly, as if they were even more connected than he thought.

 

“But you miss your daughter, and you want to go back to her. I understand, Will, do not worry. I miss Aleksandra too, though I cannot help admitting that being on our own is something I have longed for, for a long time.”

 

Will looks at him for a second, examining his face and his words. Then his face softens, a smile opens on it and he kisses him again, gently pushing himself wholly against him. Hannibal wishes he could strap Will down to the bed, force him to stay there with him forever and never, ever having to let him go.

 

If Will Graham were a bird, Hannibal would be breaking his wings so he could not fly away. A dangerously appealing thought that leaves his mind when the man puts his head on his shoulder and kisses him on the neck, nuzzling and moaning over his skin.

 

“I know you did. And it's the same for me, I'm sure you know that. But yeah, I miss Tiny.”

 

Hannibal presses one of his hands right above Will’s shoulder blade, gently pushing down, light enough so Will won't notice his actual thoughts. His first reaction is to simply nod, apparently understanding and sympathizing with Will.

 

Hannibal always prided himself with his self-control, his ability to conceal all his emotions and keeping them firmly behind his mask. But now his grip on them seems to be slipping away from him.

 

Hannibal struggles to hold himself together, because his feelings for both Will and Aleksandra are becoming so strong they're getting in the way of his scheming, of his careful plans. He feels lost, like he's starting to lose sight of himself, of who he is, of what he wants and this is new for him.

 

He's both terrified and amused by the situation.

 

However, he knows that he does not want Will to leave so fast and so early. His claws are still not deep enough into him yet.

 

“Perhaps I could join you and Tiny for breakfast. Do you think she'd be happy to see me?”

 

Will beams at his words, like he was just waiting to hear them.

 

“That'd be great, and of course she'd love to see you. She's probably more excited when you come over than when I come back from work this days... kinda makes me jealous...”

 

“You know that is not true, Will. There is no one Aleksandra loves more than you.”

 

The man nods absently, as he strands Hannibal to sit on top of him, shivering just a bit when the cold air hits his body. Hannibal lets him do it, allows Will to maneuver him just like he wants, and a pleased smile opens up on his face when Will kisses him.

 

There's a wicked light in his eyes when they look at each other again. Will sighs deeply, running his hands again over Hannibal's chest in a much more seductive way, and it is easy to imagine what is going to come next.

 

“I guess I could stay here another hour or so... if that is okay with you. Then we'll go get Tiny and have breakfast all together.”

 

Hannibal pushes him down so he can gently nib at his neck, gently pressing his teeth against the soft skin there, but without hurting him. Will moans, already starting to rub himself against Hannibal, making him feel his cock getting harder.

 

“That sounds like a perfect plan. And how do you suggest we spend this additional time we have granted ourselves?”

 

Will laughs.

 

“I think I have just the right thing in mind.”

 

Hannibal believed him, when Will told him sex was never important for him, never something he actively looked for or that he missed during the lost years he had no one in his life. But the way he fucks now tells him that maybe it wasn't sex that Will missed.

 

He missed intimate human contact. The feeling of someone buried deep inside him, of hands on his skin, of long and loving kisses. He missed being loved, being desired and needed. And that is exactly what Hannibal is trying his utmost to give him.

 

He watches Will as he slowly rides him, sweat pooling on his forehead and all his muscles tensed in the effort of keeping his balance and fully feeling the pleasure they are sharing. He looks wild and beautiful, savage almost, as if all his walls and forts have been annihilated, raided to the ground by the strength of the bond they are creating.

 

Hannibal is content for a while to let him do whatever he wants, and to observe how his expression changes, how his body flexes and bends to accommodate him. He whispers to Will how beautiful he is, and enjoys seeing the flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes become wide open and glossy with sheer incredulity.

 

There is something about him that speaks deeply of all Will has been through. He's so caught up inside himself, so desperate to defend his vulnerable heart and the peace he built so difficultly, that protects him and his daughter. He has been wounded before, there are scars not only on his body, but on his soul as well, and they run deep under his skin, they took root and eradicating them won't be easy.

 

But the way he smiles, the light Hannibal sees in his eyes when he flips their positions and fucks him hard into the mattress, speaks of a trust that Hannibal wants to eat up wholly, that he wants to cherish and exploit at the same time.

 

What could I make you do? What could you make me do? How far can this go before we destroy each other? 

 

Will digs his nails into his back, and Hannibal can imagine the scratches he's leaving there, angry and red like a constant reminder of how strong this bond they share is. He slides one of his hands over his neck, presses it lightly on his throat just enough to make him feel the pressure.

 

Will stares at him and goes perfectly still, his mouth open and red, gaze turning liquid and fingers buried in Hannibal’s hair. For one perfect moment, Hannibal can see some kind of realization coming and appearing into his eyes. He's on the verge of understanding something important about Hannibal, something that escaped him so far, bur that now it's almost in his grasp.

 

Hannibal feels a shiver of dread and anticipation running along his spine. He kisses Will hard, letting his neck go and keeping him pressed between the bed and his own body until he's sure the other man is distracted enough. 

 

There's too much of himself he cannot allow Will to see until he'll be ready, until he'll know for sure that he can take it all. Hannibal has to keep his mask on, even though he keeps feeling it slipping and leaving way too much of what is underneath exposed. And he knows Will sees a lot, maybe too much.

 

But they are both stripped of their armor when they are together. They get under each other's skins, vulnerable and defenseless.

 

Hannibal fucks him even harder to try to regain some control, to take back what he feels he lost, but has the distinct feeling of leaving behind even more trails of himself.

 

He keeps thrusting and pushing into him until Will moans loudly and holds Hannibal close as he comes, eyes shut closed and a desperate expression twisting his face in such a beautiful way that Hannibal can feel himself falling even more deeply for him. For a moment he forgets the danger Will represents and lets go, abandoning himself to the pleasure flowing between them.

 

Will's body is warm around him. It feels safe, just like coming home.

 

\-----

 

The quiet moments they share are starting to become something Hannibal can't get enough of, no matter how many opportunities come and pass between them. They always feel brand new to him.

 

Getting the chance to observe Will while there's nothing but silence around them, while he's sipping a morning coffee and lost in his thoughts is truly beautiful. Hannibal memorizes all he can about him, remembering how he looks in this particular light. From the shape of his nose and mouth, to the color of his hair and eyes, the expression on his face, his posture, everything.

 

If I could trap you in one of my drawings, steal your soul and keep it forever with me, I would—possessive thoughts keep running through his mind and he cannot let them go. They only fuel his savage desire for Will that wasn't quieted at all by the sex. It only makes him want more.

 

“Is the coffee good?”

 

Will turns to face him, smiling softly as he wraps his cardigan more around himself, maybe he feels cold. Hannibal quietly gets up and raises the temperature of the room, under Will's watchful gaze.

 

“It's delicious, thank you.”

 

“I am glad you enjoy it.”

 

The man says nothing, but he relaxes.

 

“We can leave as soon as we are finished. I am sure Aleksandra cannot wait to see you again, I bet she missed you very much.”

 

Hannibal catches something moving in Will’s eyes, but he is not entirely sure of what it is. Will looks unsure for a moment, like he is noticing something about Hannibal and is trying to fit it in the picture he is building. 

 

He sighs, deeply, rubbing his eyes. There's a hint of sadness on his face afterward, like he knows he'll have to say the words that will follow the long pause that is stretching between them, but knows that he has to because he can't help it.

 

Will always gives Hannibal the impression of considering himself out of place, ready to ruin a moment by just existing. He navigates his life like it does not really belong to him, and he is just a guest that no one really wants there. Hannibal savors his discomfort. He finishes his coffee and then finally looks at him.

 

“I still have no idea what your real aim is. Why are you keen on being with us? Why are you trying so hard? At the end of the day, we aren't even that special!”

 

Hannibal expected a similar question, but it still finds him uncharacteristically unprepared to give him the answer his deep and clever eyes are seeking. Even when he attempts to find something to say, the words appear to him like a scary and threatening monster he cannot seem to tame in any way.

 

What to say then, he asks himself. He tries to smile.

 

“I told you once that I did not know, that I was as clueless as you are. I am sure you remember.”

 

Will nods, adjusting himself on the chair in that nervous way he came to know so well.

 

“Did anything change since then? Did you have a sudden bout of revelation?”

 

Hannibal laughs softly, but then goes back to his unreadable expression. To the impenetrable mask that, however, becomes thinner every day. If he tried to lie, to wriggle away from the question, Will would know. He's way too clever to be fooled like that.

 

“No, nothing changed. I feel this inexplicable pull towards you and your daughter, a longing for the family life you two share and a strong desire to be part of it. The thing is, I do not know why or what am I doing to reach this goal. I am lost as much as you are, Will. But for some reason, I do not mind. I feel closer to you know than I ever did before, and I feel confident we could find out how to merge our lives, if we wanted to.”

 

A smiles opens up on Will's face. He crosses his arms on the table and places his head on them, looking up to Hannibal. His eyes are beautiful even behind the thick glasses he wears to shield himself from the rest of the world.

 

He is beautiful and Hannibal fears what he'd be willing to do to keep him in his life.

 

“It's not that easy. I don't have just only myself to think about. There's Tiny, and she's a responsibility you need to be sure you're willing to take.”

 

“I am aware of this.”

 

Will nods, more to himself than to Hannibal. He reaches out to touch his hand, and Hannibal grabs it right away, keeping him between his own as tenderly as he can.

 

“Taking care of a child is not always fun and games. I wouldn't blame you if you were not ready for it or wouldn't want to sacrifice your freedom like this...”

 

Always that self-deprecating tone, that painful expectation of abandonment. Will truly is like one of the mutts he adopts. He went through too much to even consider that being loved and cherished is a possibility for him.

 

Hannibal kisses his fingers, hears him sigh and relax in his hands. Will is still not aware of how tight his grip on him actually is, and Hannibal is determined to keep his embrace hidden from Will long enough to give him no chance to ever break free. And he is determined to give him and Aleksandra the life they deserve at the same time.

 

“I cannot know if I will be up to the task, I might make mistakes of course. But I am ready to try, if you'll let me. Nothing is more important for me right now than you and Tiny, Will. Believe me.”

 

“And that doesn't scare the crap out of you?”

 

Hannibal laughs.

 

“It absolutely terrifies me, Will.”

 

Will gets up and kisses him deeply, allows Hannibal to hold him, and when they part there is a new light on his face, a new expression of sweet bliss.

 

“Then let's try and see where this takes us...”

 

When they finally leave to go back to Aleksandra and to the world outside his walls, Hannibal looks at his house with new eyes, with a new perspective. It needs more colors, more life.

 

He imagines Tiny running through the corridors, her toys scattered on the floor and a smile opens on his lips, he likes that idea very much. Then he hurries outside to follow Will.

 

\-----

 

Mahler's Fifth Symphony reaches the Adagietto as Hannibal is selecting a tool from his table, fingers hovering over all the displayed ones like pianist's on a keyboard. He smiles to himself when he finally grabs the scalpel, feeling the cold metal even through the gloves he's wearing—a familiar feeling, much like the music that is spreading around him.

 

Hannibal closes his eyes, his mind wandering back in time to a December night in Berlin, when he attended a performance of this symphony directed by the great maestro Abbado. Only, the memory of it is enough to bring tears to his eyes, to fill him with the glorious and furious strength of pure beauty.

 

It's refreshing and soothing for his soul, it reinvigorates him and when he comes back to the present moment, he's almost giddy and ready to go back to his intended task. He turns around to look at the man strapped down to the operating table, silenced by his gag and immobilized by the restrains and the drugs in his system. 

 

The panicked look in his eyes is almost comical in its paroxysm, in its desperate attempt to generate some kind of sympathy or guilt in Hannibal that would help keeping him alive, but Hannibal regards Gerard Morris, formerly a quite unlikable and noisy tax accountant, as he would any mundane object. With cold indifference. 

 

The Adagietto progresses as he approaches the table and prepares himself for the first cut. The man is adequately fit, and his liver and kidney should make for the excellent dinner he plans to have with Will this weekend. Hannibal smiles to himself again. He saw the Grahams nearly every day since he finally spent the night with Will, and the different atmosphere building between the three of them fills him with pride.

 

He slept over at Wolf Trap, sleeping with Will and waking up holding him firmly in his arms, and with Aleksandra resting peacefully between them. It felt natural to her, to see Hannibal take over this role that was never occupied before by anyone else. Will gently explained to her that he was to be a very important part of their lives from now on, and all she did was smiling brightly and hug both of them.

 

He has almost reached his goal, he can feel victory so close he can taste it in the back of his mouth, but this is the time when he must be the most careful. He cannot afford to leave anything to chance. A thrill of impatience runs through him, making his skin and fingers itch, like he cannot contain himself any longer and is struggling to maintain his usual calm.

 

Will still has doubts, still regards him as an oddity he cannot quite explain in their lives, and Hannibal has to pour all his energies in wiping that last resistance out.

 

He focuses on the music once again, to ease his mind. Then he feels ready to begin.

 

“I am sorry for keeping you waiting, mister Morris. That was very rude of me, we shall give you all the attention you deserve right away.”

 

Morris would scream if he could when the blade enters his skin, cutting through the layers and allowing red blood to pour out, dripping on the table all warm and sticky. It doesn't really make Hannibal feel anything other than a mild interest in how everybody reacts differently to a similar wound. But that is just a lingering trace of his medical training.

 

Hannibal usually does not see or hear anything else while he's busy with his activity, but even now, his mind at times goes back to Will. Would he be called on Morris' crime scene, examine his body and try to understand him, the Ripper? It's always amusing to him. It generates a pleasure and a pride that very little can match. He's two people at once: the man Will Graham is falling in love with, and the one he's trying to catch.

 

It's both disturbing and fascinating. It takes his mind so wildly away from what his hands are doing that Hannibal almost cannot feel the squirming body under them, the pained and muffled screams.

 

He's so far away into his inner world that at first, he almost does not hear the doorbell ringing, but when he does finally, there is a weird feeling of anxiety building up inside him as he approaches the monitor pointed on the front door.

 

Will and Aleksandra are there, waiting outside for him to welcome them.

 

For one long moment, as he stares at the screen in front of him, Hannibal feels like he's having some kind of out of body experience, and he's actually looking at himself from the outside, watching his reaction to the situation.

 

All his possible options fly right in front of him all at once, and he has to close his eyes and take several deep breath to fight against the wave of annoyance and confusion that crashes over him.

 

He could not answer the door, of course. But the idea of watching them leave or letting them down like this is insufferable to him more than anything. So what to do? How to make sure they won't notice anything and still be able to see them?

 

Hannibal's hand is still firmly holding his scalpel, gloves stained with dripping blood, as he walks back to the table to assess the situation. Morris is bleeding from several cuts, but not severely enough to fear he could die if left unattained for a little while. He has to make up his mind fast, but scrambling for clear thought and fighting against the tide of his conflicting emotions is hard, and he cannot help but struggle.

 

It's on an impulse that he decides to answer, silencing his mind for a moment.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey! It's me and Tiny.”

 

“Hi Hannibal, hi!”

 

Despite the situation and all that has been going on inside his head in the last minute, Hannibal cannot help the smile that spreads on his face when he hears their voices. Once again, the out of body experience feeling returns overwhelmingly.

 

“Well, this is a surprise! I'll be there in a few minutes.”

 

“Sure, yeah. We'll wait right here.”

 

He shuts the intercom, and for a few seconds, he stands there perfectly still, like he's in a trance and cannot force himself to move forward and actually do anything. Oddly enough, he feels calm, almost sedated by the sudden and fast turn of events. 

 

Hannibal inhales deeply, purging his brain from all the residual mayhem that is still moving inside it, and then finally starts moving. He throws away the gloves, changes his shirt and carefully washes his hands and face. He needs to present himself perfectly, in no different shape than usual, and he does his best to achieve this.

 

As for Morris, he leaves him as he is, giving him only a faint smile before going back upstairs.

 

Aleksandra rushes to hug him when he opens the door, forcing him to pick her up and to accept her kisses. Hannibal almost feels bad about touching her right now, but it passes quickly as he runs his hands through her hair and kisses her forehead.

 

“I was not expecting to see you two today, is everything alright?”

 

Will nods awkwardly.

 

“Yeah, of course. We are running some errands here in Baltimore, and we remembered this is your free day, so Tiny wondered if you wanted to join us, maybe go get an afternoon snack.”

 

The child in his arms nods emphatically, looking at him with her blue eyes shining in the golden light around them.

 

“Yes, Hannibal, please!”

Hannibal looks at her and suddenly has the distinct impression of not being in his own body anymore, because, by now, he held her so many times he has lost count, and yet right now it feels different. It is almost like she somehow became heavier overnight, and he has to adjust her several times in his grasp to find a comfortable position. 

 

He does not feel like himself, not at all. His brain goes back to the man in his basement, to the danger he's facing right now and to the importance of keeping a firmly straight face no matter what. He tries to smile, while Will gently touches his arm and Tiny rests on his shoulder.

 

Maybe this ill feeling spreading inside him is the death that is still clinging to skin, fighting against the life Tiny represents. Quite an interesting allegory, he can't help noticing. Despite everything, his attention to the details remains untouched and that helps him relax, gaining back some of his almost lost control.

 

“I would love that, but I must ask you to give me a half an hour to shower and change before we can leave. I was doing some work in my basement and I fear it has left a terrible smell on me.”

 

“Yes, Hannibal you do smell funny. Just like daddy when he comes back from work or when he has to clean up the barn!”

 

Will laughs and ruffles her hair, making Aleksandra whine as she hides deeply in his embrace. 

 

“Is your work anything I could help you with? I'm good at fixing things. And if we're bothering you, you can just say so...”

 

“No, don't worry. I was simply getting rid of old patients records I don't need anymore. Quite boring and very dusty, I welcome a distraction. I just need some time to be presentable. Is that acceptable?”

 

Will takes Tiny from his arms and the two of them talk strictly to themselves for a few minutes, giggling and looking at him from time to time with soft smiles on their faces. Hannibal observes how alike they are, clever and beautiful. It almost helps him forget the turmoil he's going through, the heavy weight of near destruction that could fall upon him much like Damocle's sword.

 

They are so blissfully unaware, so innocent in their ignorance that Hannibal feels painfully left out from what they share, pinned down by the knowledge he hides inside himself. He thinks once again of bloody hands holding Aleksandra, caressing her and Will. And something inside him turns and twists almost in disgust.

 

In the end, Will nods to him.

 

“That's just fine, me and Tiny will finish our errands and then come pick you up. So you can go make yourself pretty again!”

 

Hannibal reaches out to hold his hand, a gesture of gratitude that leaves Will stunned for a second. He's still not sure how to react to kindness, how to give in to that deep desire of being loved he has but that he never truly expressed, because he never trusted himself and others with his tender heart.

 

And the truth is, Hannibal himself isn't sure how to handle Will Graham without giving in to the desire of tearing him apart and devour him.

 

“Are you okay? You look pale and... different somehow.”

 

Oh, if only you knew...

 

No matter the situation, Hannibal cannot help feeling this thrill of excitement, this rush of adrenaline he feels at the thought of close he is to being discovered. But he buries it deeply into him, instead smiling, kissing Will's hand and pretending nothing is wrong.

 

“No, Will. Everything is perfectly fine.”

 

\-----

 

Once he is alone again, Hannibal takes his time before going back to the basement, and allows his mind to finally flow freely, collecting all the different slices of thought that cross his brain so fast that sometimes he can barely glance at them. Even though he still feels calm, still perfectly intact inside himself, he cannot deny the danger that just hovered over him, threatening to crash down and destroy all he worked for in the last few months.

 

What just happened was a lot more than an internal musing about Will finding out about his secret activities, empirically imagining his reaction and what either of them would do in this situation. This was real, it was a breath away from actually happening.

 

Hannibal sits in front of his harpsichord, inhaling deeply the familiar scent of wood, paper, bone and gold. He presses a few keys just the hear that sound reverberating all around him, sinking into him and cleansing his mind of the turmoil happening inside it. He knew this was going to happen one day, sooner or later, because the truth cannot be hidden forever and Will is too smart not to notice anything eventually. 

 

He just did not expect it to crash upon him like this and right now, when his place in the Graham family is still far from being secure, and he finds himself confronted with a choice that will inevitably alter the balance in his life.

 

But before he can go further and not only consider his choice, but make it as well, there is something else he has to do.

 

Morris is exactly where he left him, tied down to the bed, his face a mask of tears and fear. While Hannibal was away, the man was left waiting in the darkness of the basement. He soiled himself, and there's such a distinct stench of urine in the room that Hannibal has to look away in disgust for a moment. Such a pitiful little man, causing him so much trouble.

 

He's not bleeding anymore, rivers of crystallized, crusty and brown blood cover his livid skin, almost giving him the appearance of an abstract painting. Hannibal commits the image to his mind for a moment, before giving the shivering man a smile.

 

“Mr Morris, I am sorry I was not able to take my time with you, and fully give you all my attention. But something much more important came up, and I am afraid we must quickly part ways. Consider yourself lucky, please. Your death shall be painless and fast.”

 

Hannibal reaches the cabin and fills a syringe with phenol, two grams are more than enough to get rid of the problem. Morris is crying again, trying to wriggle away, but he's quick to pump the venom right into his heart, killing him in a matter of seconds. There's no elegance, no careful planning in it. Hannibal abandons his aesthetic ideals to focus on pragmatism.

 

While he wheels the body into the cooler and finally leaves it there, Hannibal has the clear and exact vision of Aleksandra running down the stairs in this exact moment, catching him in the act. Would her clever eyes understand what is happening? Would she recoil from him in fear, start crying and call for her father?

 

And what would he do, how would he react? Could he ever hurt her?

 

What if Will walked on him instead? Would be able to take her father away from Tiny? Could he find it inside himself to dispose of him just like that?

 

Hannibal imagines himself taking a scalpel from the table and slowly walking towards Will, then moving fast enough to kill him before he has any chance of fighting back, of screaming for help, of warning his child of the danger.

 

He only realizes that his hands are shaking when he's back upstairs and cannot blame it on the cold anymore. Just the idea of hurting Tiny is impossible to understand for him, it is outside the realm of possible scenarios. Imagining it is painful, much more than he ever imagined. And it finally forces him to confront the question that has been following him around since he started this insane cat and mouse game with the Grahams.

 

Could he set killing aside for the time being, in order to focus on them entirely?

 

This is new to him, because he never thought he'd have to give up some parts of himself in order to accommodate Will and Tiny in his life, in the spaces he occupies. But Aleksandra is just a child, and she's curious enough to go snoop where she should not, and a lock would ring suspicious to Will, it would hype his vigilance.

 

Will is not ready to see him, not yet. And Hannibal is not ready to be seen just yet. He needs more time, he tells himself as he sheds his clothes and gets into the shower. The water that hits his skin is almost too hot even for him, it attacks his body almost painfully, but he welcomes the feeling, because it keeps him sharp.

 

Hannibal has never been a man ready to compromise himself for other people. Truth is, since Mischa's death he never had to, because no one ever mattered to him enough to force him to reevaluates his world keeping someone else in mind, their needs and desires, instead of just his own.

 

Maybe, the truth, he is trying to avoid facing that Tiny and Will are important enough to him to force such a decision upon him. And, honestly, it doesn't even feel like a huge struggle anyway, but only as something he's willing to do to ensure their love, their constant presence in his life.

 

Hannibal is getting used to his new role, to the new responsibilities that come with it—and he is enjoying it. Because it is a challenge, something he never experienced before, and because... it makes him happy.

 

Aleksandra, with her kindness, her innocence and her big heart, brings his life a ray of light that had been absent from it since his sister died. He never tried to replace it nor wanted to, but the child did it all by herself, and now her presence in his life is fundamental for him. He can't even imagine losing her. His desire to protect her, to watch over her is as selfish as it is generous.

 

And then there's Will. The man is a riddle, one he desperately wants to solve so he'll be able to make sense of the layers and layers of secrets, fears, self-loathing, goodness and darkness he sees in Will. He is the most fascinating subject that has ever found his way to Hannibal’s grasp. But curiosity was a factor just at the very start—now it is different.

 

Will became much more than just that. He's someone Hannibal wants to build something lasting and important with, partially for his own hedonistic pleasure, but also because... Aleksandra and Will make him happy. And this is a feeling that has been creeping inside him more and more, reassessing his priorities, and changing how he sees the future of the relationship he has with the two of them.

 

Hannibal sighs deeply, stares at himself in the mirror as he puts on fresh clothes to prepare himself for the day, to put on his mask once again and forget what is hiding in his basement.

 

Apparently, there is nothing different about his appearance. He looks normal, no one could tell what he really is... and yet.

 

He thinks he catches the hint of something new, a shift in his walls, forts and masks that leave more room for his true self to peek through. He smiles at his reflection.

 

Hannibal knows he cannot stop the change that is operating inside of him, that the path he decided to follow will take him somewhere he never expected to end up. But he is ready to see what will happen, because right now, it is the only possible way to go. He won't give up Aleksandra and Will, no matter the danger they represent.

 

So he goes back downstairs, to wait for them in the perfect silence that surrounds him.

 

\-----

 

Will and Aleksandra, as usual, manage to occupy his mind so completely that Hannibal cannot find himself focusing on anything that is not them. The little girl is excited about showing him what she and her father got for Halloween, overwhelming him with her chatting, with the colorful decorations, their project for the party, and leaving him a smile on his face in the end.

 

She always brings joy wherever she goes.

 

“Tiny, eat your cake now, please? Hannibal can see all we got once we get home, okay?”

 

Will doesn't try too hard to restrain her, but the little girl diligently goes back to her food, even though she glances up to Hannibal and they keep whispering to themselves, with her father looking at the with an indulgent smile on his face. Hannibal can't help noticing the subtle transformation that a relaxed family life operates on Will.

 

He looks much happier, more at peace with himself than he ever was before. And Hannibal has seen him after a case or when self-doubt and commiseration take over. Now the world for him is turning just the right way, and Hannibal feels determined to keep it that way.

 

“Hannibal, we still have to get my costume! Will you help me choose?”

 

“Of course, I'd be honored. What did you dress up as last year?”

 

Aleksandra drinks some of her milk before answering, and Hannibal, without even thinking, cleans her mouth afterward with gentle care.

 

“I was a skeleton princess, and a ghost before that, I think. Daddy has lots of pictures, but I don't remember very well, I was just little. We can show him, right daddy? Once we get home? Are coming home with us after, right Hannibal?”

 

Hannibal is always endeared by the way she pushes him to do exactly what she wants, even though she has no real idea of the power she holds over him, over all the people in her life. Tiny just wants to spend time with him, because she loves having him around and got so used to his presence that she cannot imagine Hannibal not wanting the same.

 

And he wants nothing more than to please her.

 

Will laughs at the their exchange, happiness glimmering in his eyes.

 

“Don't get too ahead of yourself, Sharky. Let him breathe.”

 

Hannibal sighs. He will have to get used to this if he really means to go through with his plan.

 

“Of course, we shall all have dinner together tonight. I am sure your father will find some exciting recipe for us. And I cannot wait to see the pictures. Do you have anything in mind for your new costume?”

 

She shakes her head, with a flush of pride making her cheeks pink at his compliments—so much like her father in everything. Even in this.

 

“Nope, but you and daddy will help me!”

 

Hannibal smiles, ruffling her hair gently.

 

“Yes, we shall do just that.”

 

His idea of family has always been tainted by the deaths that destroyed his original one. Hannibal always built little universes all around himself and the people in his lives, carefully constructed and kept together by his web of manipulation, of secrets and of blood. Family was an aesthetic concept—bring together people you feel are similar to you, keep them bound to you in any possible way. Change and twist them until they're unrecognizable if you have to.

 

But with the Grahams, it is all so different that Hannibal is still struggling to make sense of it. They changed him, bound him to them and slowly absorbed him in their little unit. And now he's so addicted to that feeling, to being loved and accepted, that he cannot imagine severing that bond. Not matter what it costs.

 

Hannibal expected Will to take them to a random mall, it doesn't even matter which one, to buy some mass manufactured dress made of plastic and cheap fabric. Instead, Will and Aleksandra lead him to a very small boutique, clearly one that sells handmade dresses. Despite the size of it and the somehow concealed location, there's a huge crowd inside, full of parents ordering costumes for their children.

 

Will sighs as they sit down in the waiting room until it'll be their turn, places Tiny on his lap and only then looks at Hannibal, with a soft smile suddenly opening on his otherwise tired face.

 

Being a father is a full time job, one that is really capable of wearing you out.

 

“You look surprised and amused. May I ask why?”

 

Hannibal hints a smile, barely rising the corner of his mouth. Aleksandra looks at him with a curious expression on his face, as she sips some water from her cup. Gently, he raises a hand to caress her hair.

 

“Well, I must say I was not expecting to end up in a place like this with the two of you... you tastes must be way finer than I expected them to be. I am impressed.”

 

Will laughs, a loud and genuine sound only muffled by the noises around them, but that Hannibal still grabs it and internalizes it, keeping it inside in all its beauty and intensity. 

 

“I came here for the first time while I was looking for a gown for Tiny's baptism. Alana recommended me this place, and we've been returning over and over here ever since. The owner makes beautiful dresses, Tiny has quite a few. Her favorites are the Halloween costumes though.” 

 

“I'd like to see them once we get back. I am sure you have kept them all, including the baptism gown.”

 

Will's eyes color themselves with a beautiful shade that mixes tenderness and nostalgia. His daughter is still young, still close to the baby she used to be, yet he is so painfully aware of how fast time passes, and he can't help clinging to those memories. He nods in the end, sighing deeply.

 

“Of course, we'll show you later.”

 

Aleksandra, perhaps feeling that she has been neglected for too long, jumps into the conversation, filling the space between him and Will with her voice.

 

“Daddy keeps everything in a huge box. Sometimes, we take things out and he tells me stories about when I was just a baby. We like to do that very, very much. Don't we, daddy?”

 

Will kisses his daughter's forehead and tickles her a little, making her laugh and relax in his strong arms. She always feels secure with him, in ways Hannibal will never be able to imitate. Perhaps she has some kind of internal memory of when she was safe in his womb, protected by his body. 

 

It's an endearing image, one he almost feels the need to commit to paper, so he'll be able to preserve the intact memory of it. Tiny and Will are talking to each other in soft whispers, yet he does not feel left out, because he gets to look at them, to enjoy the breathtaking beauty that exudes from them.

 

He meets Will's eyes and the man smiles at him, reaching out to take him hand and keep it close to himself. Things have gone way too far to turn back. In the man's eyes, Hannibal can read subtly hidden promises and hopes that he does not want to break, and this is unusual for him, how deeply he's ready to commit to the two of them.

 

Hannibal can't help wondering what kind of feeling Will is developing towards him, and what his own might be...

 

His train of thought is derailed by the arrival of a middle aged woman, dressed comfortably and with her grey hair tied up in a tight bun. She is smiling warmly at Aleksandra, who rushes to meet her, with him and Will in her trail. She must be the owner of the shop, and the familiarity Tiny has with her is surprising, considering how shy the child is. She kisses her cheek and gives her a small hug, before returning to her father's side like a good little soldier.

 

“Hello, Aleksandra, hello Will. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, we've been so busy today!”

 

Will shakes his head.

 

“Don't worry, Meg, we didn't mind waiting that much. Right, Sharky?”

 

Aleksandra nods, excited about her new clothes and, probably, also about his presence there, because she keeps looking at him and smiling brightly.

 

That is when the woman's eyes zero on him, perplexed at first, but with a curious look in them at the same time. Hannibal slips into his best, most welcoming and reassuring mask, putting in on his face and hiding everything else behind it. Will is staring at him, waiting to see what will happen, and he can feel a subtle tension suddenly filling the room and weighing on all of them.

 

“I see someone new this year. This is a surprise.”

 

Hannibal smiles, holding out his hand to her, while carefully studying Will's reaction to his actions and his words. He tries to infuse them with as much charm as he can.

 

“Hannibal Lecter, I'm just a friend, tagging along to give my honest fashion opinion, since I have been asked to do so by a very special little girl. It is very nice to meet you, ma'am, your shop is indeed lovely.”

 

Meg relaxes almost immediately, shaking his hand and thanking him politely. Aleksandra smiles at the two of them, and then feels the need to add her own point of view and judgment on Hannibal.

 

“Hannibal is very, very nice to us! Daddy and I love him very much.”

 

The way she says it, how her small voice puts emphasis on the word “love”, gives him a weird feeling of belonging that seems to be shaking something inside him, twisting it and bringing his memory back to why he has here, what he could be building and how quickly he could lose it all.

 

It is unusual for him to dwell so much on the consequences of his actions, mostly because he never had to before. There was no one that mattered, no one more important than himself and of what he wanted. Hannibal feels almost a pang of irrational anger towards himself for letting things go this far without noticing, and yet it all goes away when Aleksandra gently slips her hand into his and holds it, a beautiful smile on her face.

 

So he smiles back, and follows the child and Meg when she invites them all to follow her, so she can show Aleksandra all the available options. But before that, Will stops him for a moment, holding him back in the now empty room.

 

There's a devious smile on his lips, the one he loves so much to see while they're in bed together. Hannibal sighs when Will puts his hands flat against his chest, sliding them up and down on the soft fabric of his jacket.

 

“You're just a friend, huh?”

 

Will seems to be so amused that he can barely keep a straight face, and when Hannibal pulls him slightly closer, he laughs against his chest without breaking eye contact. Something changed drastically in Will's behavior towards him in the last few weeks, the reserved and suspicious man he used to meet in his office so they both could try to understand each other is gone.

 

Now he has his lover standing in front of him. 

 

“I was not sure if it was appropriate or not to get into too much detail about our relationships with a stranger, when we have yet to define it ourselves...”

 

Will sighs, closing his eyes for a moment and then inhaling deeply. Hannibal takes his chance and wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer while making sure no one is coming their way. The man looks at him then with a smile on his face, relaxing against him and then kissing him.

 

It's a deep, intense kiss that leaves a sweet aftertaste in his mouth, and leaves the feeling of belonging with Will, that this is the exact place he should occupy in his life. There's a sweet kindness in his eyes, a loving attachment to him and trust in their relationship.

 

Hannibal's mind goes to the body hidden in his house, to the threat it poses.

 

“We'll talk. Soon. Now we should go back to Tiny.”

 

He smiles, and pulls Will closer again for another kiss, drowning against his lips all the doubts that are mounting inside him.

 

“Yes, we sure should.”

 

The way Will looks at him, with a beautiful hint of a smile on his lips and a curious expression on his face. Sometimes, to Hannibal, he looks frozen in time. Perfectly immortal and never changing in his beauty. Caravaggio comes to his mind once again: the beautiful features of the angels and saints he painted, carved by his chiaroscuro. Hannibal runs his fingers across Will’s cheek, feeling the uneven scratchiness of his beard underneath mixed with the softness of his skin.

 

Will raises his eyebrows and laughs almost nervously.

 

“You look different today...”

 

“What in particular, Will?”

 

The man shrugs, pulling away from him and scratching his head, like he's not sure exactly how to put into words what he feels. Will is far too smart for his own good, far too receptive of others and their feelings, and Hannibal stands there in perfect silence, observing emotions change on his face.

 

“I am not sure yet. I am not sure you want me to find out. But ask me again later and maybe I'll have an answer.”

 

Their attention is completely focused on Aleksandra afterward, the child filling the space between them with her natural excitement that erases everything else from their mind. Hannibal compliments her different outfits, gives his opinions under Will's watchful eyes that keeps trying to pierce through his walls to understand what is going on with him. But that doesn't distract him from his daughter.

 

Hannibal enjoys observing them and their relationship more than anything. That way, he can find his own place.

 

Aleksandra is thrilled to have him there, to see her father so happy, and he can read much about how hard their life must've been just from that.

 

“Hannibal, I like this one! Do you like it? Daddy likes it too, right daddy?”

 

The little girl shows off her beautiful witch costume, twirling for him so he can see it, all while Will claps his hands and smiles brightly. He never looks as beautiful as he does while he's looking at his child, never as loving and happy as when they are together. Hannibal is slowly starting to feel the heavy weight of responsibility towards Aleksandra, mixed with the same devotion that Will has.

 

He holds out his hand and she runs to sit on his lap, her body light as a feather against his own.

 

“You indeed look beautiful. You'll be by far the best dressed witch the world has ever seen. I think this costume was made just for you.”

 

Tiny blushes, hiding behind her hands and giggling to herself, giving him a big kiss and resting against his shoulder. He hears Will's distant sigh, can imagine the soft and mesmerized look on his face without turning around. 

 

“So, will you be a scary witch or a cute witch?”

 

“Can I be both? I don't want to scare people, that's not nice, but it's Halloween! And I'm a witch! But I want to be cute as well...”

 

Hannibal kisses her forehead, rocking her in his arms.

 

“Of course. You can be anything you want.”

 

There are moments when he is still able to analyze his relationship with the Grahams with the cold, detached and emotionless clarity of a surgeon. He can adapt his reactions to what he thinks will be requested to him, to their expectations. But they're so few now that he barely pays attention to them anymore.

 

His feelings of care for Aleksandra were always genuine, though laced with his intentions to use her to get to her father. But now all he truly wants is her happiness, to see her safe and know he has a sound and strong place in her life.

 

And Hannibal knows Will can feel that. He sees it in his expression, in the light in his eyes. The man takes his hand, subtly and carefully, but the warmth of it against his skin, and the soft weight of Aleksandra in his arms are starting to feel just like home. And despite the inner turmoil this realization strikes into him, the paralyzing terror mixed with frantic and fevered curiosity that pulses into his veins, Hannibal realizes he cannot get enough of that feeling.

 

\-----

 

Hannibal drives all the way out to Wolf Trap with the Grahams, joining them in their house for the evening even though his mind still feels muddy and overwhelmed. He didn’t even manage to think straight and make sense of the many thoughts and feelings moving wildly inside him while even in the loneliness and silence of his car. 

 

He looks at Tiny and Will, at the way they smile at him or welcome him in their own home, their faces lighten up by a beautiful expression of trust that makes him secretly beam with pride. Hannibal now has carved for himself that place in their lives that he so desperately fought for and schemed for months to obtain. Yet ruin could be so near. And maybe it is. The ruin and destruction of who he was before, followed by the birth of a new identity.

 

Maybe this was not truly what he was after at the very start—to be transformed by the Grahams while manipulating them into accepting him. But now he can't help wanting to see where this will lead him.

 

“Hannibal, do you want to help me and daddy decorate for Halloween? Daddy always forgets so we do it so much later than everybody else... but with you here, we can do it now!”

 

Will picks the child up and tickles her until she giggles.

 

“Yeah, with you here we'd do it much quickly. Then we can start thinking about dinner... do you feel up to it?”

 

A smiles appears quickly on his face, as a dog brushes against his leg and in the warmth of the Graham's house he feels truly part of their family for the first time. He reaches out to caress Aleksandra's hair, and then he nods, watching Will beam just out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Alright then. But only if you promise to show me Tiny's mementos box.”

 

Will shakes his head, but he is smiling, though in his eyes Hannibal can still read some of that reluctance he still has when it comes to share his and Tiny's past with him. That is one wall that still stands tall between them, though he makes no sign of having noticed the shadow that flickered on his face.

 

“Of course. I guess we have a deal then.”

 

Aleksandra's excitement, mixed with the pack's intrusive curiosity, make it hard for him to get anything done at his usual pace, but he doesn't mind too much, since it helps him connect with the child even more.

 

Will helps little, prefers to stay on the edges of the scene and observe Hannibal standing outside in the dying light of the day, busy with party supplies and an overexcited five year-old. Truth be told, he thinks he did pretty good, despite everything.

 

Hannibal decorates the porch with plastic pumpkin vines, with skulls, witches and ghosts, trying to infuse some of his aesthetic taste in it, while keeping in mind that Tiny is the one to impress, that she'll be the judge of his work in the end.

 

“Hannibal, do you celebrate Halloween too?”

 

The child follows him around everywhere, filling the air with her chatting in her small voice. He's reminded so strongly of himself and Mischa, that a few times he has to turn around to take a good look at her, to remind himself that Aleksandra Graham is not his sister. She is dead, buried in a forgotten and secret cemetery in Lithuania, guarded only by ghosts.

 

She used to follow him everywhere too, constantly asking him questions. It gives him both an intense feeling of déjà vu and one that tastes like the brand new responsibilities he had decided to accept.

 

“No, not really. Although I do give out candies to the children who come knocking at my door during the night, I do not decorate my house for Halloween. In Lithuania, we have a special holiday called Vėlinės, the day of the souls, when we remember our dead. Not quite the same as your Halloween, I am afraid.”

 

Tiny stands there with her mouth slightly open, completely taken by her fascination with his tale.

 

“And what do you do then? Do you put on costumes too?”

 

“Oh no, it is quite a private moment. Everybody brings candles to the graves of their loved ones that are no more. Even a graveyard looks beautiful then, illuminated by all those soft lights. It is quite a sight. Maybe one day, I'll take you there and you'll see it for yourself.”

 

She claps her hands and smiles, nodding enthusiastically.

 

“That would be so nice! Right, daddy?”

 

“Yep, it would be, Sharky. Hannibal could teach us so much about his country. We should persuade him to talk more about it.”

 

Hannibal catches Will's eyes and grins.

 

“Yes, Hannibal, please! You know so much stuff, daddy does too. I still don't because I'm just little... but I like hearing you talk very, very much.”

 

He cleans his hands on his slacks and then kneels in front of her, allowing the child to put her arms around his neck so he can lift her.

 

“You have all the time in the world to learn, Tiny. And of course, I'll teach you everything you'll want to know. In fact, even though I do not decorate for Halloween, I do it for Christmas. Maybe this year, you'll join me. Would you like that?”

 

Aleksandra laughs and then hugs him, nodding against his neck. Hannibal closes his eyes, running his fingers through her hair and keeping her safe in his embrace. Will, with a halo of yellow light surrounding his head, stares at them from the top of the porch. He is smiling.

 

“Hannibal, do you miss Lithuania? Do you want to go back there sometimes?”

 

Hannibal keeps her on his hip as they get back inside the house, with a hoard of dogs and Will in their trail. He sighs.

 

“I do miss it sometimes, but I would not want to go back there. I would miss you and your father way too much to be able to live there! Would you miss me, Tiny?”

 

The child nods forcefully, her little hands clinging to him like she's afraid he could suddenly disappear in a puff of smoke. Will runs his fingers through her hair, gently petting her.

 

“Yes, of course I would! You won't leave ever, right Hannibal?”

 

He kisses her cheek.

 

“Never.”

 

Will follows him in the kitchen afterward, leaving Aleksandra safely alone with the dogs and busy with a new drawing, and he starts to prepare something simple for their dinner. In the long moment of silence that follows, Hannibal loses himself in his thoughts. 

 

It took him a while to understand that Aleksandra's fascination with him steams from her intense curiosity, for her desire to get to know the world outside through different eyes. But he while he was looking at her now, he saw how attentive she was, how focused on his words, and it filled him with genuine pride. She's bright and smart, two qualities he wants to nourish and watch as they grow.

 

Will caresses his back slowly, his palms warm even through his shirt. Then he hugs him from behind, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder. Hannibal sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling his scent deeply, taking his hand and kissing it.

 

Only when he opens them again he realizes that is raining outside, and that Aleksandra is talking to the dogs. He smiles to himself, feeling the embrace of that cozy domesticity wrapping itself around him.

 

“You're doing so good with her. I'm kinda proud.”

 

“That is only thanks to your help and guidance. You raised her well, I am just benefiting from that, and from the trust you are putting in me.”

 

Will says nothing for a while, and Hannibal keeps silently stirring the tomato sauce in the pan. He's held between the heat of the fire and that of Will's body, but instead of feeling trapped, he has a true taste of what a domestic life with him would be like. He could get far too used to the idea of providing for Aleksandra and her father, of becoming essential to them.

 

He hears Will sigh.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“What for? You have nothing to thank me for.”

 

The man forces him to turn around, placing his hands on his shoulders and smiling up to him with such a kindness in his eyes that for a split second, Hannibal feels the need to both kiss him and crush him. Will is exposed, all his protections have been carefully stripped away from him, leaving him so vulnerable that Hannibal cannot help but want to bite at the soft and defenseless flesh.

 

“For being kind to her. It may not look like a big deal to you, but for me and for Tiny it is. You make her feel important, and... that is important to me.”

 

Hannibal caresses his cheek, then cups his neck and brings him closer, not quite kissing him, but still letting their lips almost touch. 

 

“Are you implying that I am not always kind?”

 

Will can't help laughing.

 

“I know you're not, I can see it in your eyes. But I also see how much you love her, and I know that it is genuine, that you would never lie to her or pretend. It's not much, but for me it's enough.”

 

Hannibal kisses him then, hard enough to make him moan. Will is placing his heart in his palm, beating and warm, and if only he wanted, he could shatter it, reduce it to a bloody pulp and licking it off his fingers. Or he could treasure it.

 

All he has to do is decide.

 

“Have I been kind to you, Will?”

 

The man inhales deeply and regards him for a moment, with those smart blue eyes that far more than it would be safe for them to, that can skin him alive and turn him inside out with just one look. Will smiles again, in the end.

 

“Only when I wanted you to be.”

 

Then, as quietly as when he came in, he leaves the room with a grin on his face and the promise of more for later. Hannibal stands there for a while more, with Will's taste on his lips and the odd feeling of having crossed a line he won't be able to walk back from creeping on his skin and taking root into his heart.

 

Only then he realizes how deeply his nails sank into his palms.

 

\-----

 

And dinner comes with the usual and familiar routine of Aleksandra monopolizing their attention and being so focused on him and Will to, at time, even forgetting her food, forcing her father to take her into his arms to feed her. 

 

The child is so fascinated by his past, by Lithuania, and keeps asking him question after question with that same excitement and curiosity he can see in Will, only dulled by age and experience. Hannibal sees in her eyes that sparkle of life, of youth and innocence that changed his take on his relationship with the Grahams so much in the last few months that it's hard to keep track of it.

 

He wanted a place between them so he could experiment on how far manipulation would take him. Now, he feels manipulated into becoming a family man and can't even complain about it. Instead, he gracefully goes along with it.

 

“Sharky, come on, eat your dinner. You can chit chat with Hannibal later, not with your mouth full. He's gonna think I taught you no manners at all!”

 

The child sighs and accept another morsel of her salmon, taking her time to chew this time.

 

“Hannibal, what do people eat in Lithuania? Is the food good?”

 

“Yes, it is very good. But it is perhaps something you'd have to get used to, since it is so different from American food. Would you like me to cook some dishes for you?”

 

Both Tiny and Will nod, smiling to each other. 

 

“Yes! That would be so nice!”

 

“There is a soup called Šaltibarščiai that is bright pink. Maybe that is what I should make for the two of you, quite unusual isn't it?”

 

The child laughs, clapping her hands and nodding in agreement, before climbing on his lap, letting Hannibal hold her close, kiss her hair and rock her into his arms. Will doesn't let go of her hand, so she's perfectly sit between the two of them, the metaphorical bond made now physical.

 

Hannibal can feel the warmth and the weight of the look in his eyes, the deep and lasting impression that they leave on his skin. And Aleksandra made it all happen.

 

“Daddy and I go to Louisiana in the summer, to say hi to Grandpa Graham, and we eat so much weird food. I really like gumbo, and the crawfish pie. Daddy makes it and it's very good.”

 

Will sighs, indulging himself with a long sip of his red wine.

 

“Not really the best time of the year for that, Sharky. It's too cold now. But when it gets a lil bit warmer, we can entertain Hannibal to some old school Southern cuisine, what do you say?”

 

His accent becomes a little bit more noticeable when he's relaxed, tired and had something to drink. The way words roll on his tongue, the unusual sound they have, it all seems to exotic and strange to him that he feels a sudden pull of attraction towards Will that leaves him kind of lightheaded when it passes.

 

There is just something about Will. The persona of neglected elegance, the Southern charm, the shyness and that determined avoidance mixed all together—a cocktail Hannibal cannot resist. Will Graham doesn't even remotely know how beautiful he is, how deeply that affects him, but Hannibal is determined to show him in time. To make him see.

 

That is why he smiles.

 

“That would be delightful, Will. I look forward to it.”

 

Aleksandra puts her head on his chest as the dogs circle them, trying to understand why their little miss trusts this stranger so much and if they can do the same. He reaches out to caress one, and the animal caves in without a fight.

 

“Daddy can cook a little, you know, Hannibal? He's just very, very busy and never has time to do it too much. But that's okay.”

 

“What I ate so far was very good, I have to say. Your father is so full of surprises, and I am still trying to fully find out about all of them. Will you help me?”

 

She giggles and nods, clinging more to him, as Will laughs in his corner and shakes his head, commenting once again on the fact that they are allying against him. He looks so beautiful with a smile on his face and that warm light of infatuation in his eyes, younger even, like the years have been washed away from his skin.

 

Hannibal sits with them on the couch after dinner, Aleksandra tucked under a duvet and safely between them, as they all look over the heirlooms of her childhood. Will kept it all, it seems, every piece he considered important and close to his heart, and it allows Hannibal to just see how much he loves his child, how deep his devotion to her is.

 

He holds Tiny's first pair of shoes, her first onesie, the first pictures of her little life. He imagines Will in the hospital, watching over his child in her incubator, waiting for her to be ready to come home. And then the beginning of their lives in that house, the many struggles of a new father having to raise a daughter all by himself.

 

“Tiny was a very quiet child, you know? She only cried when she was in pain or upset, but otherwise just stared at me with her big, blue eyes. Waiting for me to understand her needs. And you still do it, don't you Sharky?”

 

Tiny blushes, hugging her dad and giving him a kiss. Hannibal wishes he could crack open his ribcage and his skull, so he could read exactly what he felt, what he thought, what emotions moved inside of him back then. Will's eyes look distant now, lost in his memories as he shows him pictures and objects, while Tiny observes them, her shark stuffed animal held close to her chest.

 

This is a family that went through so much, he realizes just then. Will gave up so much to be a good father for her, and Aleksandra lives a happy and serene life because of those sacrifices. But Will is also a man tainted deeply by a darkness that only her presence mitigates. A part of Hannibal wishes he had known him before she was born. Who was Will Graham back then? What kind of man?

 

They are a constant challenge, they shake him and his beliefs to the core and he's so seduced by that, that he cannot back away. It is the only thought that has been bombarding him during the whole day: why is he becoming so dependent on them, what have they done to him?

 

Maybe he was so lonely without even realizing it that now he can't get enough of this feeling of belonging, of having a family for himself.

 

When Aleksandra leaves them alone for a moment to go to the bathroom, Hannibal looks at Will as he scans through the pictures, the memorabilia, and the feelings they evoke in him. He thinks about the painting he's working on at home, and sees now all around him the same diffused light he translated on the canvas.

 

“You have so many wonderful memories of her, she will be glad of this when she's be older. It is the proof of how much her father loved her from the very start.”

 

Will nods absently, sighing and taking his glasses off to rub his eyes.

 

“I don't know why I started to take so many pictures, why I kept so many of her things... my dad never did anything like that for me, I only have a few old toys, school photographs. Those kind of things, very impersonal, really. I guess... I guess a part of me wanted to try to retain as much as possible, to stop time, in a sense. Children grow up so quickly. One day you're their whole world, the next they're getting married and leaving you. I wanted to hold on as much as I could of her. Is that morbid?”

 

Hannibal shakes his head. He takes Will's hands and kisses them, holding them. He looks sad and peaceful at the same time, and Hannibal feels an empty space between them, something that sets them strongly apart.

 

Because Will is a father, while he is not. And he wishes he could tell him that he has the same hole in his heart, that same sense of impending loss that permeates the air around him. Hannibal too, is the sole custodian of memories that no one else shares.

 

One day he'll tell him of Mischa, so she'll live inside him as well.

 

“Not at all. You wanted to remember for her what she could not. That is the strongest proof of your love for her. She will grow up, yes, she will go on and have her own life one day. But Aleksandra will also always know she has a father that loved her from the very start of her life and never stopped. Not even for a moment.”

 

Hannibal sees a tear in his eyes, as a thankful smile opens on Will's face and he nods, suddenly shy about his display of emotions. He takes him into his arms and kisses him, deeply and languidly, caressing his cheek and inhaling his scent. There is still so much to find out about Will Graham. He's still only scratching the surface.

 

Will laughs against his lips when they part, suddenly amused by something.

 

“Tiny asked me if you're my boyfriend now.”

 

Hannibal tries to hide the triumph he feels inside, the sudden feeling of victory that rushes through his veins, but Will much see some of it because his laugh grows even louder and he's forced to join in.

 

He sighs deeply, wrapping his arms around Will.

 

"And what did you reply?"

 

"That I'm still thinking about it."

 

The amusement in his voice is way more encouraging than anything else, Hannibal has the feeling of having breached one of the last walls that still keep him from having full possession of the man's heart. And he can already feel its heat through the thin layers that are left between them.

 

"Am I on trial then?"

 

It's Will's turn to sigh now.

 

"Don't worry, you're doing very well."

 

Hannibal kisses him again. He's warm, he's beautiful and nothing has ever been more terrifying for him than slowly falling in love with a man like him. And yet there he is.

 

They go back to their side of the couch after that, but Will keeps holding his hand, caressing it with his callous fingers, but also with the same gentleness he reserves to Aleksandra or to the dogs. And it's while they're lost in each other that the child comes back, running into the room and holding a book to her chest.

 

"Daddy!"

 

Will welcomes her in his arms with a kiss that makes her giggle. She looks at the two of them with a huge smile on her face, and Hannibal relishes at the idea of her seeing them kiss and realizing that her father has a chance at being finally happy. Despite her age, she understands him better than anyone.

 

"Hey Sharky, did you do everything in the bathroom? Did you wash your hands?"

 

The little girl nods.

 

“Yes, daddy. And I got a book! So Hannibal can read something to us. Please, Hannibal, please?”

 

Will kisses her temple, while Aleksandra places her little hand in his. 

 

“Of course, I would love that. We missed you while you were away.”

 

Tiny blushes, hiding against her father's chest, giggling softly. Will sighs deeply and once again that longing expression returns, and it stays on even when the man looks at him, as if he is now a part of his family, that safe haven that protects him. All around them there's a thick atmosphere filled with hopes, with unexpressed feelings that are trying to push their way out of all of them, that wrap themselves around the three of them like a soft blanket.

 

Will looks at him, his eyes shining, and Hannibal has once again that weird feeling of falling apart right in front of him, under the pressure of his gaze.

 

“You and Hannibal stay here for a moment, I'll go get some water for the dogs and make hot chocolate for us, okay? Then you can have two stories before bed. Yes, only two! You need your sleep, Sharky.”

 

Aleksandra pouts when Will gets up, but nods anyway like the good girl she is, before climbing on his lap, her cheek pressed against his shirt.

 

“Hannibal do you like the book I picked up? We can get another one if you don't...”

 

“I am sure it's wonderful. You have excellent taste, Tiny.”

 

She nods, solemn and serious as usual, and looks at him with keen interest, analyzing his face. She sighs very deeply then.

 

“Are you tired? You look tired. You should stay here tonight so you can sleep with me and daddy and rest! I don't want you to go home, please!”

 

Hannibal wonders how he must appear to her. He's a man so different from her father, who constantly wears his feelings and weariness in plain sight on his skin. Maybe the day really is taking a toll on him at last, because he yawns and adjusts the duvet on his legs and on the child, allowing her to cling to him more.

 

The memories of the corpse locked up in his cellar, of the risk he took today, come back to him all at once, and he feels even more oppressed by exhaustion. He does not want to go home just yet either.

 

“I don't want to disturb your father. But yes, I am quite tired. It was a very long and busy day for all of us. Maybe when he comes back, we could ask him if it's okay.”

 

She smiles at him.

 

“I think he will say yes, because you're a little like his boyfriend now! And he likes to kiss you and stay with you. Why would he say no, then?”

 

Hannibal caresses her head, running his fingers through her hair as she plays silently with her toy as she waits for an answer.

 

“Your father told me I am still on trial.”

 

Tiny shakes her head, pouting at him as if she's displeased by his lack of understanding. He laughs silently to himself. She can be as stubborn as her father, because she's also as perceptive, and Aleksandra can see a lot of him, way more than she can understand.

 

“No! He likes you very, very much! He told me that. He wants to be your boyfriend too. But daddies sometimes have to do things a little bit slower than others, he said, because they have many, many responsibilities.”

 

“And I understand that, don't worry. I can be very, very patient. But what about you? Would like me to be your daddy's boyfriend?”

 

She nods, giving him another big kiss and resting on his chest, her ear right above his heart. Hannibal wonders if she can hear that it is beating slightly faster than it usually would. He used to be so in control of himself, even of his heartbeat, and now all that self-imposed restraint as disappeared, evaporated in a puff of smoke.

 

“You make daddy happy and I want him to be happy forever.”

 

He sighs.

 

“So do I, Tiny. So do I.”

 

Maybe there's a part of him that really means it, mixed with another that still realizes that it is not all he wants, that his dark desires are still alive and strong inside him, possibly even more enticed by how close he is to his goal.

 

But the child deserves hope, deserves to dream, so he just holds her closer and kisses her forehead.

 

\-----

 

Will allows him to take the lead in taking care of Aleksandra for the rest of the evening, making sure she doesn't burn her mouth with the chocolate, persuading her to put on her pajamas before she can have her stories, and even going with her to her room to help her with it. He observes him, in silence, and Hannibal realizes he doesn't mind being tested, that he actually enjoys watching Will become more and more impressed with him as time passes.

 

The child reacts surprisingly well to it. She respects his authority, but also treats him still like a friend, chatting with him about plans for Halloween, about school and accepting his help when she needs it. Hannibal thought Tiny would have troubles adjusting to someone who's not her father, but, maybe because Will is always there with them and because of the bond they share, she is calm and happy as usual, though getting progressively tired as the evening goes by.

 

Hannibal finds out he enjoys taking care of her, not only for Will, but for himself. Doing something for Tiny makes him feel better, happy, almost. He will have to analyze those feelings later, once he'll be alone with his thoughts.

 

“I'm happy you're here, Hannibal.”

 

Tiny's voice is sluggish and sleepy, as she rubs her eyes and tries to stay awake to listen to her second story. She can be a stubborn child sometimes, but maybe that is what he likes so much about her, that she's strong and smart despite being so young. Will kisses her head and caresses her back, looking at Hannibal with a smile curling his lips.

 

“I am happy to be here too. You and your dad have been so good to me, so welcoming. Thank you very much.”

 

Her little hand closes around his, holding it firmly, and he kisses it again, as Will sighs.

 

“We should finish reading you your story in bed. You'll be much more comfortable, and Hannibal too. What do you say, Sharky?”

 

“I don't want to go to bed! I'm not tired! And Hannibal is going to leave and I want him to stay! Can he stay daddy, please?”

 

Will smiles to her, and to him too, once again catching them conspiring behind his back, but also unable to be mad to either of them. They are his family, Hannibal can read it in his eyes, in the warm shade of blue they assume thanks to the fireplace and to the relaxed peace he sees in them. He managed to make Will Graham fall in love not only with him, but with the idea of him being part of that little unit that so far he struggled so much to protect from outsiders.

 

“Well, it is very late for him to drive back. I say we can offer him a bed for the night. Is that okay?”

 

The child nods, giggling to Hannibal, sharing her little victory and secret with him.

 

“You should put her to bed. Since you're on trial, let's see how this goes. Is that okay with you, Sharky?”

 

“Okay. I'm a little cold, daddy.”

 

He grabs a blanket and wraps it better around her.

 

“Then let us get you to bed. So we can finish out story and then you can have a good night’s sleep.”

 

Hannibal can't say he did not expect something like this. At least a part of him did, so he graciously takes the honor of getting the princess safely up to her room in his arms, already half asleep and clinging to her stuffed animal like it is her own child. Will follows them, just to make sure she's safe, but he can tell he trusts him.

 

They have truly come a long way from their first anxious meeting at Aleksandra's school.

 

Will just watches him in silence, and stays on the doorstep as Hannibal tucks her into bed, and then sits next to the child, caressing her cheek and her hair, watching her as she settles under the covers, safely protected by their warmth, and holds her stuffed animal close to her chest.

 

“Hannibal?”

 

“Yes, Tiny?”

 

Aleksandra takes a deep breath, reaching out to grab his hand. Hannibal lets her, her fingers warm against his skin, her eyes a little unfocused because of how tired she is. Yet when she speaks again, her voice is steady and calm.

 

“Never leave us, okay? Promise you'll stay with us forever.”

 

He hears Will take a deep breath, catches his sudden alert, but doesn't turn around. His eyes remain on her. Tiny looks so small in her little bed, so helpless, yet he sees how much strength she has in herself, how smart and determined she is. He smiles to her as kindly as he can.

 

“I won't go anywhere, unless you or your father want me to. I promise.”

 

At first, Hannibal is not completely sure if he means what he just said, if he is being completely honest. Truth is, he wouldn't give up on them even if Will asked him to, but that is not something he can tell the child. Will's eyes are piercing his back, so focused on the two of them that his gaze almost hurt.

 

Aleksandra nods after a long moment, smiling back.

 

“Okay. That's fine. I love you, Hannibal.”

 

“I love you too, very much.”

 

And he can be sure that at least that last part is true. Tiny falls asleep quickly after that, yet he still finishes her story, because keeping his promises to her is way more important than anything he had to do in his life before.

 

He failed with Mischa. He promised too much to her, and in the end could not honor his word. He won't fail this time, he won't fail Tiny.

 

Will is waiting for him outside the room, a pensive look on his face. Hannibal wants so desperately to kiss him, to hold him close to his chest and then slowly start caressing his head, and keep caressing and caressing until he'll crack open his skull and touch the brain.

 

The man turns to face him with a grin on his face, and Hannibal knows they won't address what just happened between him and Tiny tonight, because both of them are not ready yet. There is so much thinking ahead to do, so much to examine. Will is careful, watchful even, but not, thankfully, for the reasons Hannibal might fear.

 

On that front, he's safe, for now at least, which could mean nothing and everything.

 

Hannibal wraps his arms around him, pushing him gently against the wall and then kissing him, forcing him to open his mouth so the kiss can be deeper and more intense now that they are alone and don't have to worry about Aleksandra. Will responds to his touch with soft moans on his lips, and with a bright and beautiful smile when they part.

 

“You did good with her. God, she's so in love with you.”

 

“I am glad my trial is going well. And... so am I. I never took into account the possibility of becoming so attached to the two of you. And yet here I am, begging you to let me in, hoping you'll be merciful enough to do it.”

 

Will sighs. He caresses his face just with the tip of his fingers, barely touching him and yet leaving behind a heated trail that makes him shiver. There's so much in his eyes that Hannibal can read right now. There's the conflict between what he knows Will wants, him in their lives, and the knowledge that he should be careful. But they're both tired of it, they want to be reckless and throw themselves into the stream of passion that ties them together.

 

The man nods, acknowledging his words, but saying nothing in return.

 

Hannibal inhales deeply, taking one step away from him. Will shakes his head, pulling him close again.

 

“If you're about to say that you should go home... don't. Just don't.”

 

He kisses Will again, hoping that will hide the feral grin that opened on his face.

 

“I have no intention of leaving.”

 

He wonders if this is the first time somebody said these words to Will and actually meaning them, because he looks almost overwhelmed for a moment. What a lonely man he is. They both are, and they relished in their loneliness for far too long.

 

“Good. Good.”

 

It is all he says before taking him to bed.

 

\-----

 

Hannibal stays awake in bed for a long time. Will is asleep by his side, his breathing soft and regular, like a soft and beautiful music he can't help listening to until it drowns all the rest of the sounds around him. 

 

He feels numb somehow, yet his mind is racing and he just cannot quiet it, despite how tired and weary his body feels. This day has been so long and full it felt like it was never going to end, and now that he almost is, he can't give in and finally rest.

 

Very quietly, he gets up, walking through the dark and empty corridors, surrounded by the sleeping house. It's still raining outside, harder now, and he slightly opens a window downstairs to look outside, inhaling the pungent air around him, and focusing only on that until he feels himself calmer. Something changed tonight. He found himself forced to choose between the two sides of himself that so far managed to live together.

 

The man and the monster.

 

The scent of the house is so familiar to him after all this time, a mix of dogs, cheap aftershave, children's toys and the natural scents of Aleksandra and Will. It’s starting to feel like home, even more than his office or than his place in Baltimore. Hannibal knows he cannot change, that the need to destroy that pushes against the walls of his veins, running through them together with his blood, won't ever go away.

 

But he knows how to hide it even better, bury it deep enough to forget about it while he pursues a much more important goal.

 

He can do that, for now. Things might always change, he tells himself as he already starts planning how to quietly dispose of all the evidence that is still at his house. He's a resourceful man, one that always looks ahead.

 

He will need to take a couple of days off work, probably: there is much to do, but the prospect does not scare him, on the contrary, it suddenly seems to give him a purpose he finds oddly challenging.

 

Hannibal, very quietly, trying to de as delicate as possible not to disturb the child, visits Aleksandra, just to make sure she's safely asleep. The child looks so innocent, so peaceful. And so does Will when his dreams are kind and don't take the shape of nightmares. Hannibal should ask him what does he look like while he sleeps.

 

Maybe he will.

 

He tucks Tiny better under the covers, kissing her head and feeling suddenly so light and secure in his decision, that it has the effect of cleansing him of all doubts, of all the maddening works of his mind.

 

His brain is quiet now.

 

Hannibal knows he will sleep well tonight, as he always does.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short chapter this time! Savor as good things are being right now in our little family, who knows how long that is going to last... eheh :*

It takes Will a long time to finally realize how much space Hannibal occupies in his life now, and even longer to accept that he doesn't mind. Years of self-imposed solitude has left a deep, lasting mark on him, has lowered his tolerance for invasions of his privacy, and has even lowered his perception of personal space. He could not afford to give attentions to anyone but Tiny.

 

Or, better, he didn't want to.

 

But things have changed now—Hannibal changed them, and him. Will misses him when they don't see each other, and it's an unfamiliar feeling, one he's still struggling to understand. At night, after he tucks Aleksandra into bed, he sits by the fire and allows his mind to wander freely. He’s always relieved when his thoughts don't take him back to his latest crime scene, but to Hannibal instead, to the realization that now he has a new life and that his old one is gone forever.

 

The first time he saw Hannibal Lecter, he never thought the man would become so important to him, perhaps the first truly important person in his life since he gave birth. He's in his dreams, lingers in his memories when he's not there, and Will can smell him on his sheets when he wakes up, he can feel his kisses ghosting on his skin. It's almost beautiful, wanting and needing someone so much. Frightening and beautiful.

 

Sometimes, he's still jealous about Hannibal's relationship with Aleksandra. There is a part of him that just can't accept not being the only influence in her life anymore, and that wants to keep the child all to himself.

 

And yet all it takes is seeing them together to make him forget it all. Hannibal is genuine with her, a secret, youthful and almost forgotten side of him comes out when Aleksandra is around. To a man like Will—one that is far too used to see monsters hiding under people's skin—to see one like Hannibal, with all his secrets and darkness, being able of such kindness, it means a lot.

 

He watches them play together, and he realizes Tiny needed it, that she's much happier now. And all Will wants is her happiness. 

 

Hannibal holds him close when they sleep together, kisses him warmly, makes love to him with that hint of danger in his gesture that drives Will crazy and pushes him further and further into his lair. Will knows he's falling in love, knows he's not doing anything to prevent it from happening. 

 

Will smiles to himself, and maybe he allows himself to hope that change, for once, might be the best possible option for them, a conscious choice he's making so he and Tiny can have more, and finally be truly happy.

 

As he drives to Hannibal's house for the little dinner the man organized just for the three of them to celebrate her birthday, Will sighs and thinks about how deeply his concept of family changed over the years. First because of Tiny—her birth was the first time in his life where he felt part of something meaningful, loved unconditionally and completely. His daughter became everything to him the second he found out he was carrying her.

 

She was the embodiment of his family.

 

And now it includes Hannibal too. And it gives him a warm feeling that erases everything else.

 

Aleksandra sneezes in the back seat, rubbing her little nose and clinging to her stuffed animal. Will looks through the mirror at her, suddenly concerned about her health.

 

“Are you okay, Sharky?”

 

“My head hurts a little, daddy. Will we be there soon? I want water.”

 

Will sighs, stopping the car in an empty parking lot so he can give the child some water and clean her nose. She's not warm, no fever in sight for now, but Tiny has been delicate since birth, so every cold scares him even if it shouldn't. Old habits he can't shake off.

 

She smiles at him, piled under a blanket and wrapped in her big coat. In these moments, she looks so much like the newborn he used to cradle in his arms, rocking her gently and humming lullabies to. Tiny still has the same genuine kindness in her eyes, the same innocence in her features. Will kisses her forehead.

 

“Maybe we should've stayed home, invited Hannibal over instead.”

 

She shakes her head forcefully.

 

“But he said there's a special gift at his house! And we're almost there, right, daddy? I'm okay, don't worry. Let's not go back, please?”

 

Will sighs, ruffling her hair and sitting next to her in the warm car for a moment, closing the door behind him. She's enthusiastic at all times, even while sick or hurt. It only takes a spark to get her attention and see her beautiful and curious expression returning on her face.

 

“Don't worry, Sharky, we're going. But as soon as we get there, you'll go sit straight in front of the fireplace and take all your medicine, okay?”

 

“Do I have to? It's so bitter!”

 

He can't help laugh at her tone and at her offended expression, and offers to give her some chocolate to sweeten it. Aleksandra nods, still moping a little bit, but excited once again when he goes back to driving, Hannibal's home just a few more minutes away now.

 

He wonders what Tiny sees in him, sometimes. Will, despite his self-deprecating tendencies, knows he has been a good father to her, and after all, she's the most wonderful child possible. He'd love to still have her perception, that innocent and still untainted one that maybe helps her understand Hannibal more than he does.

 

She saw his loneliness, his desire to have a family. Maybe she is the reason why they're starting to become one.

 

“Daddy, why can't Hannibal live with us?”

 

Will inhales deeply. He smiles, because on one hand he's suddenly wary of how fast things are moving, yet on the other he can't help but feel the same longing for Hannibal as she does.

 

“Well I guess he really likes his house, it's very beautiful after all. I'm sure he doesn't want to leave it, even though he likes us very much.”

 

The child seems to think about it for a long moment, blinking in the half darkness of the car, before reaching the conclusion that he's probably right and nodding, a little sad maybe, but otherwise ready to go back to play with her toy.

 

“Would you like him to come live with us and the dogs?”

 

Of course, she nods enthusiastically.

 

“Yes! It'd be so nice! He'd cook for us, we could play, read books, and he'd make you so, so happy, daddy. The doggies like him too, you know? We all like him, and our house is big enough for all of us! Do you think he'd say yes if we asked?”

 

His happiness means more to her than it does to him, and Will realizes that maybe she became so close and so attached to Hannibal because she saw his loneliness, and noticed how similar to his own it was. In her innocent quest to help, she wanted to bring the two of them together so they would not be lonely anymore.

 

She's not a perfect child, though that is probably how he sees her, yet all her flaws mean nothing when confronted with her stubborn kindness, with her desire to look out for others.

 

Will smiles to her, sighing to himself.

 

“You really like Hannibal. Don't you Sharky?”

 

Aleksandra nods, staring at him with her clever eyes.

 

“Of course I do! That's why I want him to stay with us. He wouldn't feel lonely then.”

 

He say nothing for a moment, his eyes on the road ahead of them, the one that is taking them to Hannibal. Somehow, it seems to be getting shorter and shorter as time passes, and Will has the feeling that one day it'll disappear completely into nothing, leaving no more distance between them.

 

It's at the same time a frightening and comforting thought.

 

“Well, it's still way too early for that, Tiny. Let’s not forget that. But who knows what might happen one day in the future. Now, let's focus on having lots of fun tonight.”

 

And Will knows he truly means it.

 

\----

 

There is the usual round of hugs, kisses and cuddles between Hannibal and Tiny once they finally arrive in Baltimore, with the man holding the child close and kissing her cheek to welcome her. Aleksandra giggles in his arms, happy to see him, to be there, and Will finds that he's happy as well, that he can breathe more easily and set aside the thoughts that plagued him in the car.

 

He sinks into his touch when Hannibal caresses his face, and smiles back at him. 

 

Hannibal looks different lately. Something changed, but Will can't quite put his finger on what exactly just yet. Even his house now has a different feeling—there's a warmth, a calm and a more familiar atmosphere that Will is sure wasn't there before.

 

Hannibal's house always gave him the impression of being an empty shell, another one of his many masks, but not anymore. Now it's truly starting to feel like a home, not only to him, but to Tiny as well.

 

The child sneezes, rubbing her nose after and settling heavily against Hannibal's shoulder.

 

“Oh, you look a little tired today, Tiny. Are you still feeling sick? Has the cold not passed yet?”

 

Tiny shakes her head, and Hannibal caresses her hair and her back to keep her warm as they all make their way to the drawing room. The care he has with her is just so peculiar, so unique and focused only on her and no one else. It was never an act or forced, but always genuine in the most honest way possible. But there was an awkwardness in him, a constant awareness that he was still out of place.

 

That is different too, and now Hannibal is really starting to behave like a father, to mimic some of his own ways of handling her, and how the three of them are slowly finding a way to create their own new family.

 

It leaves Will with a warm and pleasant feeling growing in his chest, and with a smile on his lips that Hannibal intercepts and reciprocates.

 

“I feel a little dizzy and cold, but I told daddy I didn't want to go back home! Because... you said you have a very, very special gift...”

 

Hannibal laughs at Tiny's embarrassed expression, as he settles down on the couch in front of the fireplace, with a blanket on her legs. The child looks around herself expectantly, tying to see if she can catch a glimpse of her gift. Will watches silently as the two of them interact, not approaching them for now, but happy like this as well.

 

“Well, in that case, I hope you will like it even more, to make your trip here worth it. We shall go see it in a few minutes, but first, you need to warm up a little bit. I will go get you a glass of orange juice, vitamin C is of great help when one is sick. How does that sound?”

 

Aleksandra nods, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. Hannibal accepts it gracefully.

 

“Okay, I'll wait here.”

 

Will follows Hannibal to the kitchen quietly, the other man aware of his presence and, most likely, smiling to himself as they walk through the half dark corridors. Will feels the need to touch him, run a hand on his back and feel him close after missing him in the last few days. When he finally does it, there's once again that thrill, that electricity running between them that leaves him always a little bit light headed.

 

There's a warm smile on his lips when they kiss, and Hannibal holds him close for a minute, with Will breathing against his neck.

 

“Are you still not going to tell me what you got Tiny for her birthday?”

 

The man laughs, clearly enjoying himself and the anticipation his secret is causing way more than he should. Will likes him like this, when his whimsical and playful side comes out, momentarily hiding the masks he usually wears and the darkness behind them. It gives him the feeling of being safe with him.

 

“I am just enjoying keeping you on your toes for a little while longer. Bear with me, please. This is a special night, after all, and I want this gift to be the most special part of it.”

 

Will smiles, caressing his shoulder, kissing him again slowly and savoring every second of it as much as he can. Hannibal's eyes always makes him feel dangerously naked, stripping him of his defenses and reminding him of the dangers that lie in waiting just out of sight, but ready at strike at any time. But then he would smile or let his more amenable side come out, and Will would inevitably be seduced by that and forget it.

 

He sighs, watching Hannibal pour juice for Tiny and wine for the two of them, by now so used to their rituals that it gives him a strong and warm domestic feeling.

 

“Please tell me you didn't spend too much money on her gift...”

 

Hannibal does try to look sorry; but Will can easily see that he isn't, though he does look uncomfortable as it usually happens when they bring up money.

 

“I'm afraid I cannot do that. In my defense, I can assure you that it is an extremely useful gift. Would that make things better?”

 

“Not really, but I know it's useless to argue with you about that, so I won't even try. Just... thank you in advance. I'm sure you know you didn't have to do anything at all by now.”

 

“But I wanted to. So there is that.”

 

They look at each other and even Will, who is usually so clueless when it comes to understanding what he wants and to give in to those desires, can see that they're both, very slowly, falling in love. And it comes as a surprise when this not only doesn't frighten him, but makes him want to finally give in and grab a piece of happiness that he never thought he deserved before.

 

Hannibal cups his face, his fingers massaging his patchy beard and the skin under it. He has surgeon hands, strong and firm, yet so delicate as well. They have seen life and death, Hannibal has been both a savior and a killer, and now, for Will, he's a lover. Will isn't sure how to fit all the pieces of him he's collecting in one picture. There's so many that he's starting to lose track.

 

“You're such a strange man.”

 

Hannibal merely grins.

 

“And isn't that precisely the reason why you like me so much, Will?”

 

Will kisses him again, muffling a sincere laugh against his lips, holding him close and inhaling his strong scent of expensive cologne. It is becoming so familiar to him that he missed it when it's not there. Sometimes he feels like an addict, desperate to find another dose and feeling powerless to resist that temptation.

 

He wonders how aware of that Hannibal is by now. Anything he gives away and reveals is a weapon in his hands, one that he himself has handled him, trusting the man not to stab him in the back as soon as he'll turn away.

 

Hannibal holds his hand, and kisses it. He can be kind, Will knows that. And right now, he focuses only on that.

 

“Come on, let's go back to Tiny and give her her gift.”

 

\-----

 

Will follows Hannibal upstairs, Aleksandra in his arms and busy chatting with him, as he reflects on the words they exchanged in the kitchen. When he closes his eyes, he can still feel the pressure of Hannibal’s lips, the heat of his body squashed against his own, and the thrill of the connection between them.

 

And now that he can watch him with his daughter in his arms, gentle and loving as he handles her, talks to her and makes her laugh, Will feels that same deep affection slowly turning into love once again. 

 

Tiny is barely containing her excitement about the gift she's about to receive, and Will laughs at her pleading voice as she keeps asking Hannibal for clues.

 

“Hannibal, is it something that has sharks? Please, I want to know!”

 

The man laughs, kissing her temple and then finally letting her down, kneeling in front of her with his hands on her shoulders.

 

“I did not want to give anything away, so the surprise would've been bigger, but since you've been so obedient... yes, there are sharks involved in your gift. Now, all you have to do is open this door and you will find out. Are you ready?”

 

Hannibal has a big house, a complex beast that Will has barely seen so far and that still intimidates him. The first floor, especially, remains a mystery to him—there is something oddly unsettling there, as if the walls itself could swallow him whole if he were not careful.

 

Sometimes, when he wakes up at night and walks through the dark corridors alone, Will has the constant feeling of being watched, with hundreds of eyes following all his movements.

 

But with Hannibal, it's all different, and even more when Tiny is there. He smiles to his daughter.

 

“You excited, Sharky?”

 

The child nods, and then, after taking a deep breath, she finally opens the door.

 

They both gasp basically in unison at the sight that opens before them, and on Aleksandra's face opens right away a surprised and happy expression that leaves her standing in the middle of the room, her mouth slightly open and her little hands crossed on her heart.

 

The room is not too big, but still spacious enough. Will had no idea what it contained before, nor did he care, because now Hannibal has refurnished and reorganized it to be perfect for a five year old girl, and especially one he knows so well as Tiny.

 

Will runs his eyes on every surface, takes in all the details and then looks back to Hannibal to watch his reaction. The man is standing next to the child, his gaze firmly on her, his face a mask of pure delight and pride. He knew this would've been their reaction, he counted on it and now he's finally reaping the fruits. Will is strangely endeared by it, by the efforts he dedicates to the two of them.

 

Observing the soft blue of the walls, the pastel colors of the furniture, and the sea life mural inspired by the one Tiny has in her room in Wolf Trap, Will realizes how well he knows them, and how much they matter to him. Hannibal's touch is everywhere, yet he left enough room for Aleksandra to decorate it and fill it with her own individual style and personality, with that genuine innocence of childhood that he seems to love so much.

 

Will says nothing for now. He focuses on Tiny, who's still speechless and looking around, and waits for Hannibal to be the first to talk. Will watches him attentively as he approaches the child, kneeling in front of her to get her attention. He's still smiling, but in a different way now, so sweet and charming and safe.

 

“This is all for you, you know. For when you and your father decide to spend the night here in my house. I thought it was just about time for you to have your own room here. Do you like it, Tiny?”

 

Tiny is quiet for a few seconds more, her eyes still taking in all that surrounds her, coming to terms with the fact that it's all for her; and it still surprises her when people who are not part of their close circles of friends and family are kind to her. Will has the strongest urge to go hug her, hold his daughter's little body to his chest and kiss her cheeks.

 

In the end, she nods, smiling back and hiding her face a little behind her fingers.

 

“Is this really all for me? Are you sure? It's so much stuff!”

 

“Of course, and you deserve it. I hope you will enjoy spending your time here. But if there is anything you do not like, we can change it. Do not worry, please.”

 

Aleksandra nods solemn and serious as she always does, making Will laugh and finally step forward so he can hold her hand and then take her into his arms, kissing her sweet face. There is so much he'd like to say to Hannibal right now. Maybe there is a part of him that resents him because everything comes so easily to him, because he never had to think twice about purchasing a chair or a desk in fear it would drain his bank account. He can just set up a whole room in a few weeks with no afterthoughts.

 

Yet Will knows that's not fair. Hannibal's past poverty is written all over his desire to make himself and the people around him comfortable enough so they won't worry about anything, so they'll focus on him entirely. It's in how much he loves to indulge in luxuries he surely doesn't need, but loves to have all around himself anyway.

 

Will wonders how many more wounds and traumas he'll find inside of him as he's allowed to dig deeper and deeper into him.

 

Tiny sighs against his chest, still stunned by the surprise, still looking around herself with incredulous and amazed eyes.

 

“This is all so pretty, daddy!”

 

“It is, Sharky, it is. So much room for toys and books and clothes, so many pretty colors. Just a great birthday present, right? Are you happy? You like everything?”

 

She starts nodding, but then stops for a moment, and her eyes indulge on the bed. Will laughs to himself. While the rest of the room is a perfectly in sync with Tiny and her simple tastes, the bed is purely Hannibal—way too luxurious for a child. Maybe he just couldn't help himself, and that small weakness makes him smile.

 

“The bed is a little weird...”

 

Hannibal approaches them and caresses her back. He looks unfazed, almost pleased actually, maybe because he sees the opportunity to spend even more time with them thanks to that. He is devious like that, planning ahead and anticipating their reactions well enough to always makes the most of any situation.

 

Will is starting to fall in love with that side of him as well. Hannibal is a man who knows so well what he wants that he's ready to burn everything around him to get it. 

 

“Then we will get a new bed. I am so glad you like everything else. And that your father also likes it. I seem to have finally managed to completely impress him, what do you say?”

 

Tiny giggles in his arms, nodding, and Will looks at Hannibal, feeling inside of him that same pull of attraction that washes over him every time. It's starting to feel dangerously close to an addiction, one he doesn't want to get rid of.

 

“Come on, Sharky, go say thank you to Hannibal.”

 

Hannibal holds her in his arms for a long time, as Tiny thanks him and gives him a couple of big kisses for good measure. He closes his eyes, inhaling her scent, feeling her light weight against his chest, and Will remembers when he used to do the same when she was a baby. It resonates inside of him, and in that moment he sees that side of Hannibal that makes him forget all the others.

 

The one that wants to have a family with them. Aleksandra brought them together, and her presence is part of what intertwined them so closely.

 

“Hannibal, you are so kind. Thank you.”

 

Will hears him sigh deeply while he's still hugging Tiny and she rests her head on his shoulder, a happy smile spreading on her face.

 

“It is I that should thank you and your father. Your presence in my life is a much, much bigger gift than this could ever be.”

 

Aleksandra blushes and giggles. Will and Hannibal lock eyes again, and it takes a moment to both of them to get their emotions back under control, safely hidden behind the masks they so much like to wear.

 

Hannibal looks almost genuinely and completely happy, years of deception, of lies and of loneliness washed away, leaving behind a man that looks younger and softer at the edges in ways Will didn't think were possible.

 

But how can he be sure that this is real and not a very well-constructed play for his benefit? The doubt lingers in the background, and one way or another he just can't shake it away completely. The only thing he knows for sure is that with Aleksandra, he can't help being sincere. So Will reaches out to caress his face, kisses him on the cheek and then smiles to both him and his child.

 

He trusts her instinct, trusts the respect he has for her. Aleksandra watches them with a happy grin on her face, and blushes when Hannibal holds him close and kisses him again, on the lips this time.

 

Will doesn't say anything, he just sighs and looks away, cleaning his glasses while Hannibal lets Tiny down. They both watch her run around the room, still a little intimidated, but gaining more and more confidence as she gets used to the new surroundings.

 

Tiny runs her fingers on the intricate pattern of the drawing on the wall, admiring it. She's so afraid of touching the wall, fearing she might ruin it somehow.

 

“Hannibal, this is so beautiful. Was it very hard?”

 

The man kneels next to her, holding her little hands in his big one, tracing the lines with her and then kissing her fingers. She looks at him with a soft smile on her lips and a blush creeping on her cheeks. Will can't help noticing the close bond between them, how at ease they are around each other. There is a gentleness in Hannibal's gesture that he only has for her, like he's afraid he might break her if he wasn't careful.

 

“It did take some time, but no, it was not difficult. Perhaps we could work on some additions together one of these days, what do you think?”

 

She nods enthusiastically. Tiny loses herself in the world of sea creatures that Hannibal has painted for her, her eyes so bright and lively, her face alight with happiness. Will wishes nothing could ever change, that she could remain like this forever: innocent and without a single worry, always seeing the brightest possible side of everything.

 

He sighs.

 

“I'm still amazed by the fact that you managed to do all this without us noticing.”

 

Hannibal laughs, looks at him and in his grin Will has the first sight of the dark secrets he still hides inside himself he saw tonight. It sends shivers down his spine, it reminds him of the dark fire that is still lurking and secretly burning under the ashes. What lies there, Will wants to both know and not know at the same time.

 

“I am very resourceful, Will.”

 

It's hard to decide if it sounds like a promise or like a very subtle threat.

 

“Daddy, can I stay here and explore a little before it's time to eat?”

 

He's distracted by the child, by her pleading eyes, and when he looks back to Hannibal, the grin is gone and he's the calm, safe and reassuring man he has been the whole night.

 

“Of course, Sharky. I'll go help Hannibal in the kitchen. But mind you, in ten minutes I want you to join us downstairs, okay?”

 

She nods, and goes to hug both of them again, thanking Hannibal in her sweet and soft voice one more time. Will's stomach clenches painfully when he realizes what a kind and caring girl he managed to raise on his own, and the feeling of unworthiness that washes over him at all times when he thinks of himself as a father, this time seems to slowly fade away.

 

He closes the door behind them, resting with his back against the cold wood, eyes closed, but aware of the other man's presence in front of him, hovering watchfully above him. They're not touching, but there's that warm and almost suffocating electricity that always runs between them, and it almost feels like his hands are all over him.

 

Hannibal sighs deeply, but for now doesn't breach the distance.

 

“If I overstepped, I am sorry.”

 

Will laughs, finally looking at him. Hannibal does not look sorry at all, and by now they have accepted this banter between them, when they both pretend they aren't doing that on purpose to get closer to each other. Will reaches out and puts his hand on Hannibal's shoulder, squishing it lightly as if trying to keep himself from falling.

 

“You know you overstepped and we both know you're not sorry about it. But right now, to be honest, I don't care. I won't ask you how much money and time you spent on all that, because we both know how that conversation would go. All that matters is... that Tiny is happy. And I want you to keep making her happy. Not that I like the idea of you spending money for my child without telling me, but... if we really are to be a family, I guess I should start to trust you with that as well.”

 

Hannibal takes a very slow and deep breath.

 

Will feels the need to kiss him, yet he resists for now, waiting in silence for him to say something, anything at all really, just so he'll be able to focus on those words and forget the earthquake he feels inside. His eyes pierce through his skin, like they are trying to tear it apart and finally be able to see what's inside of him.

 

Hannibal, after a long moment, smiles, grinning at him in a knowing way, and then he nods, the look on his face transforming into one of understanding and complicity that Will can't help reciprocate.

 

He never tries to tap into other's feelings, because it feels too much like being on a crime scene to him, and that ends up always poisoning everything, tainting it with the lingering scent of death and violence. But now he does it with Hannibal. Will opens up his mind and perception, and becomes aware of all of Hannibal's emotions. He has his doubts at well, feels the same sometimes crippling insecurities that plague him too.

 

Yet they're both there, trying so hard to make this work, to build their family.

 

The man kisses him, pressing him back against the wall, and Will was ready, because he could read in his eyes that the kiss was coming, could feel it on his skin and taste it in his mouth before it even happened. Hannibal, who's usually so controlled, so carefully wrapped in the multitude of veils and curtains that hide his true self from his sight, is shining like a beacon right now.

 

Will catches glimpses of what he thinks Tiny sees in him; a weird, lonely man desperate for a contact, with a paper-thin heart that could be crushed at any time. And he holds it in the palm of his hand, completely at his mercy.

 

“It is all I ever wanted, to see the two of you happy.”

 

They both know it's not the truth, not completely at least. There's a lot more hiding in the depths of Hannibal's mind, in the tortuous plans Will knows made up for all of them and that are carefully hidden from him. But, for now, he'll accept it. He takes whatever he can get from him.

 

“Yes, I know.”

 

Will holds him close to his chest, their hearts beating together. He can feel Hannibal leaning more against him, pressing him against the wall as they let everything around them disappear. It feels like they're melting together, and no matter how much he fears exposing so much of himself to Hannibal's eyes, Will still abandons himself into his embrace.

 

He remember his years alone, trying to take care of Tiny in the best possible way no matter how damaged and broken he was, remembers the pain of all he went through and can't quite accept that life now seems to be finally giving him a chance to be happy.

 

He sighs, caresses Hannibal's chest and kisses him again, as slowly as he can manage, to savor it. Maybe Hannibal feels the same too, secretly thanking any divinity he might believe in for this unexpected happiness.

 

There are parts of him that try to keep him alert, that remind him that this is too good to be true, but he spent far too much time listening to them, looking at the world through a cloud of pessimism, mistrust and inability to trust the world enough to let anybody close. Hannibal is close now, and once again he hopes that letting him will not turn out to be a mistake.

 

“We should go downstairs. Aleksandra will come to us soon, and I do still need some help with the last minute preparations.”

 

Will smiles against his mouth. The man is a tiger, and he'll always be one, but right now he's comfortably sitting at his feet, while he holds the leash. He nods, and then follows him.

 

\-----

 

After dinner, they retire in the drawing room with Aleksandra sitting on Hannibal's lap as she chats with him and Will silently watches over both of them, half present and half lost in his thoughts. 

 

Looking at them right now, he's so painfully aware of how fast time passes. Tiny is already five years old, and to him it feels like she used to be a baby just yesterday, sleeping all the time in his arms and completely relying upon him. Now she's her fully formed person, capable of so much and with such a great inner strength. 

 

He's so proud of her, yet he misses the past, he just can't help himself. He has such intense memories of it, and accepting that they won't come back is a bitter pill to swallow. Will sighs, letting the beautiful sight of Tiny and Hannibal ease his turmoil, even though it cannot make it go away. He tries to focus on all the good changes that happened in his life lately.

 

Just a few months ago, Will thinks absently, Hannibal was not in their life, and now he's holding his child in his arms and they're heading towards the first serious relationship the two of them had in years.

 

It's a mind blowing and dazzling feeling, to see how far they've come. It was fast, almost too much. Yet it's exactly what he needed. Will never thought something could make a dent in the safe life he built for himself and Tiny. And now he's sitting next to this dangerous man and realizing that he has never been happier.

 

“So, how does it feel to be five years old, Tiny?”

 

The child thinks about it for a few seconds, still looking at the pictures in the book Hannibal is holding in front of her, then shrugs, smiling up to him.

 

“I don't know, I don't feel really, really different. But I'm happy, because you and daddy gave me so many pretty gifts, and because we're all here now! That's very nice.”

 

Hannibal kisses her forehead.

 

“I am happy the two of you are here as well. You make my life much more colorful and bright. Every day I get to spend with you two is a gift I very much treasure. I am glad the feeling is mutual. And that you liked your room!”

 

Aleksandra always smiles so brightly when Hannibal says things like that. Her whole face lights up and she becomes even more enamored with him, with the way he uses words and swings them back at the two of them.

 

“It's so nice! Can me and daddy decorate it, Hannibal? Daddy is really good with stencils for the walls! Can we, please?”

 

“Of course, you can do whatever you two want. This is your home too now, and me and your father will help you.”

 

Tiny nods, her small fingers playing with Hannibal's tie, her eyes suddenly fascinated by all those colors. She picked that tie as a gift for him, and even though it's absolutely hideous, he still wears it proudly, like a badge of honor.

 

Will has the feeling of being at the same time incredibly happy and numb at his own happiness, like a part of him is sure he doesn't deserve it and that it won't last. Hannibal's voice is always as sweet as honey, always infused by all the possible good intentions he can muster. It puts him off his balance every single time.

 

He says nothing to him, ignoring even the deep and heavy look in his eyes for now, and giving Tiny all his attentions once again, running his fingers through her soft curls.

 

“I'm a little sad you're growing up so fast, Sharky. It feels like it was just yesterday that you were a baby or even just a teeny tiny bean in my belly. But you're becoming such a beautiful little lady that I can't really complain.”

 

Tiny pouts and then abandons Hannibal for a moment to hug him, squishing her face against his shoulder and giving him little kisses to cheer him up. He melts into the embrace, cradling her soft weight in his arms and inhaling her soft scent.

 

“Don't be sad daddy, I'll be your baby forever! Even when I'll be all grown up.”

 

Will laughs quietly, massaging her scalp and tickling her a little to make the sad expression that appeared on her face disappear. Tiny always worries too much about him, he catches Hannibal's eyes and sees his expression, the way he ravenously devours the sight of the two of them and of their moments together, but the feeling of uneasiness that always accompanied that look seems to be gone now.

 

He's not sure that's a good thing. He almost feels like the parts of him that kept him aware of Hannibal's dark sides are slowly disappearing, clouded by the new feeling of belonging growing inside his chest.

 

He sighs without even wanting to, and he's almost sure Hannibal perfectly understood what he was thinking, just by reading the look on his face. The man reaches out to touch his hand, gently stroking his skin, with a perfectly straight face except for his eyes, still so alive with that fire that seems to burn its way through their bodies.

 

Will laughs, still cuddling with his daughter, and when Hannibal kisses his hand, she giggles too.

 

“Daddy, can Hannibal read the book now? Are you still sad?”

 

“Not at all, Sharky. You make everything better, and Hannibal does too. You two are the most important things in my life right now, nothing else matters.”

 

How different his words sound now that he's repeating them for Aleksandra. Now they ring true, and how meaningful they are almost scares him. Will knows things are moving fast for her as well, that she has to adjust to so many changes in the last few months, but he knows that she's growing up, that he cannot protect her from the world for the rest of her life. All he can do is be there for her, ease her way into the new family they're building with Hannibal.

 

And Hannibal, he's sure of it, because all his doubts never extended to ever doubting his love for Tiny.

 

It's the change that scares him. 

 

“So Tiny, what will we read tonight?”

 

\-----

 

Will is aware of Hannibal's presence in the kitchen before the man even has to say anything. That room is so much an extension of him that it resonates immediately with him in it. It's like a very low murmur that propagates itself through the walls, like a small earthquake. He sighs.

 

“It must not be easy to watch your child grow up so fast while still trying to make the most of each day.”

 

He says nothing for a while, because he's not sure that his words will make sense to Hannibal. He might be starting to take the shape of a potential new father figure for Tiny, but he has no idea of what it means to be a parent yet. It's possible that he'll never truly know, no matter how hard he's trying.

 

Will sighs, digging his fingers into the soft fabric of the towel he's holding, and for now he doesn't turn around to face him.

 

“I can't find the right words to tell you how it feels, to be honest. There's a part of me that doesn't want to accept that she's growing up, one that holds on to the baby I carried inside me, to how little she was when she was born. And it struggles to come to terms with Tiny turning five, becoming more and more independent and having new people in her life that are not me.”

 

“And I am one of them.”

 

Hannibal comes closer, puts a hand on his back and gently rubs it until Will feels sure of himself enough to finally look at him. There's a strange expression on his face, like his mind is far away once again in those dark places of his memory that Will has no access to yet. His mouth feels dry, yet he doesn't avert his eyes.

 

The man takes a very long and deep breath, keeping the silence between them heavy and thick on their skins.

 

“We all wish we could stop time or reverse it, it's part of human nature. Maybe I cannot quite understand exactly what you are feeling, but I am not immune from this. But looking forward to and living in the future that awaits us is much more interesting that dwelling on the past. Your daughter still has so many discoveries waiting to happen in front of her, and you will be by her side. That is even more precious than any memory. You two will have a beautiful and full life.”

 

Will stares at him for a long moment before nodding and putting his head on Hannibal’s shoulder, sighing deeply against the skin of his neck. Hannibal holds him close, massages his scalp and runs his hands on his back. 

 

“When I had Tiny... I wasn't exactly young, but I... felt young, you know? I didn't feel ready to have a child. I was afraid of messing up, of losing parts of her childhood that I was never going to get back. I took so many pictures of her, I only went back to work when Aleksandra was almost one. I wanted to be there for her, to be capable of doing that... Maybe that's why I wish I had more time, that I could extent it indefinitely.”

 

Hannibal places a soft kiss on his forehead, and Will almost hates himself for the almost hopeless and defeated tone in his voice, how pathetic he sounds every time he gets sucked into his self-deprecating spirals.

 

But the other man doesn't seem to notice nor comments on his words. He just stands there, with Will in his arms, looking at him and at the same time being unable to hold his gaze for too long. He lets go of him and goes back to the hot cocoa slowly cooking in the pot in front of him, while Hannibal silently starts preparing the cream for it.

 

“What do you wish you could bring back from the past?”

 

Hannibal lets out a soft laugh, but it seems to come from such a distant place that Will feels compelled to look up at him. His eyes are unreadable, but he catches the hinted melancholy anyway. He's good at that by now, spending the last few months trying to unravel Hannibal’s secrets and mysteries. Will can understand how he feels even when Hannibal is hiding behind his walls.

 

“A time when perhaps I was more innocent, trusting and naïve than I am now, and when I hoped that innocence would stay with me, instead of slowly fading away. Life can change you in horrific ways, it can take away your childhood and leave behind someone that, after a while, you start to not recognize as yourself anymore. And that is the most sickening of feelings. Maybe that is why I care about Aleksandra so much, why I feel this strong desire to protect her. I want her to be as happy as she can be.”

 

Will stares at him, trying to decide how honest he is right now, and how far he can push him before Hannibal decides that that's enough and crawls back behind his walls. He is far too good at this game, at bottling whatever might be troubling him, making it impossible for people to even notice he's doing it in the first place.

 

It must be so exhausting to live like that every single day: pretending, always pretending, never letting anyone close enough to know the truth. Will shivers when he realizes he's probably the person who knows Hannibal the best by now.

 

He's not sure what to make of that responsibility, if he's ready to accept it or not.

 

“Isn't that what we all want? To have a second chance at happiness and also get back the days of our fondest memories?”

 

That slightly uneven smile comes back, the one that Will isn't sure if he should fear or trust. 

 

“Maybe I simply understand that this kind of hope is nothing but an illusion, at least for me. Who I was back then is gone forever, nothing could ever bring that part of myself back once lost. And even if I could have a second chance, I probably wouldn't even know what to do with it. Looking forward, on the other hand: that is where the real challenge lies.”

 

Will can't do anything but nod, because he understands what Hannibal means, and realizes that truth of it only after Hannibal plainly spoke those words. There are days where the shame and the regret he feels over even meeting Tiny's other parent are just too much, when he wishes he had never met him.

 

But if he went back and undid it all, he would not have his daughter anymore. So maybe that pain was necessary to finally have the happiness he feels now.

 

“I get that, but it's a bitter pill to swallow.”

 

“As is all life.”

 

Will shakes his head and laughs, feeling almost refreshed by the realization that he doesn't want to undo the past anymore, that he now knows how much he learned from it, and that he likes the person he became through all that. Hannibal smiles at him as he prepares the cocoa for the three of them, and Will watches him as usual, completely fascinated by how he moves his hands, by the passion and magic he can generate through his fingers.

 

When he focuses on that, he can forget the rest of the world exists.

 

Hannibal looks up at him again, something in his eyes suddenly shifting between an unbelievable tenderness and the knowledge that, at this point, he could do anything and Will would still stay with him. They carved way too much space inside each other to make room for the other to think they could patch up that void that would be left behind. 

 

It's the hopeless falling in love of two people so lonely that they would rather trap themselves and give up their freedoms than go back to that sense of utter loss that walked with them for so long.

 

Will sighs and keeps looking at him, biting his bottom lip absently.

 

The man's fingers hover over his face, still faintly smelling sweet, still warm, but they don't touch his skin, leaving him almost desperate to just give in and cross that small distance between them.

 

But they're both too lost in their own thoughts for that now. There will be time for it later.

 

“We should... go back to Aleksandra. She must be bored out of her mind by now.”

 

The man comes back to the present moment at the mention of the child, his eyes still needing a few second to focus on him again. There's always something so immensely satisfying in catching him off-guard. He nods, sighing.

 

“Yes, of course. We should also drink this hot chocolate before it gets cold.”

 

And yet neither of them moves just yet: something almost magnetic holds them strongly together, binding them to each other. Will struggles to even look away, and Hannibal is so close now that he can hear the beating of his heart resonating through his body. There is something hanging between them, unspoken words that need to come out before they can return to reality and leave this little bubble of suspended time they have created. His eyes are deep, so deep Will can feel their heavy power on his skin.

 

Hannibal takes a very deep breath, pausing and holding it for a very long few seconds, before finally exhaling. Will follows the gesture without even noticing it.

 

“For all that is worth, Will, I think all your doubts of being a bad or unworthy father for your child were completely unnecessary, and they still are. I've never seen a more dedicated parent than you, and Aleksandra knows that perfectly well, believe me.”

 

Will smiles at those words. No matter his still present mistrust for what Hannibal says, his awareness of how manipulative the man can be, he can tell when he is completely sincere. And he is now.

 

“It's means a lot, believe me. Thank you.”

 

They exchange one last and soft kiss before Will starts walking towards the door. He feels oddly at peace right now, and it is a feeling he's still not familiar with, something that clashes with the usual mess of pain that he's used to. It's not gone, because it'll never really disappear. But right now, it's a dull memory that he can deal with.

 

“Will?”

 

They look at each other again. Hannibal has a pensive expression, one that clashes with how sure of himself he usually is. He looks like he's struggling to get the words out, and Will sees how he pushes them forward, almost violently, and how it all seems to happen on the surface of his skin, right before his eyes.

 

“You asked me once if I would ever tell you who I have lost in the past. And I said yes. But even now, after all that happened between the two of us... it is hard to do it. Just like I think it is hard for you to talk to me about Tiny's other father.”

 

Will lets out a snort that sounds more helpless than he intended it too. They've been circling around each other for so long, to the point that no matter how close they become, it still feels like there's an enormous distance between them, because their secrets are still there, heavy and impossible to overcome.

 

But the day is coming. Will can feel it in his bones, and the thought is starting to be almost welcome to him now. Maybe he's finally ready to face a past that usually scares him too much to even think about it.

 

And for Hannibal is must be the same.

 

“We can give each other a little more time. I think we both went through a lot in our lives, too much maybe. Sometimes the past can be... so impossible to carry around on our shoulders that all we want is somebody there to help us. But deciding who do we want to carry it with... there isn't an easy way to do that either.”

 

Hannibal nods.

 

“It is more intimate than anything else, yes. More time, then. We still hang in the balance we have built, and then we will see how it changes once our lives will be out in the open.”

 

Will smiles at him.

 

“I think we both earned the privilege of being cautious.”

 

Hannibal takes up the tray and approaches him in perfect silence. He's smiling too.

 

“Yes. I think we have. And now, let's go back to Aleksandra.”

 

\-----

 

Watching her sleeping in her new bed later that night, Will is filled with the memories of the first time ever he saw Aleksandra in her little crib in Wolf Trap, when she was just a few months old: she still sleeps like that, in the same position and instead of saddening him and making him think about the passing of time, it endears him.

 

He gently caresses her cheek, feeling her lean into it as she always does: Tiny looks like she belongs there, in Hannibal's house, in the little room he carved into his life for her. 

 

It's a reassuring thought.

 

Will sighs when the man appears behind him and then puts his arms around him, kissing his temple and holding him close. They both stare at the sleeping child with so much love and care, that Will can't help forgetting that a deeply unkind world exists outside those walls, ready to swallow them when they'll return to it.

 

But right now it has to stay in the dark corners on the back of his mind, where they belong.

 

“We really are a family now.”

 

Hannibal sighs against his skin, unconsciously tightening his hold on him. And Will sinks into it, gives in a stops thinking to focus only on the warmth that surrounds his body, on the scent of Hannibal's cologne and on the feeling on absolute peace that is filling him.

 

“Yes. I think we finally are.”

 

Will closes his eyes when Hannibal takes his hand; and without another sound, follows him to the bedroom.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas chapter arriving right on time for Christmas.  
> Hello, I'm not dead and neither is this story.

No matter how hard he tries to go back with his memory to his childhood years, before the death of his parents and of Mischa, Hannibal still can't seem to be able to remember the last time he celebrated Christmas.

 

If he closes his eyes, he can see foggy images of luscious dinners, of his mother and father smiling down to him with nothing but immense kindness and love filling their eyes, of his sister as a small child clapping her hands excitedly at every novelty, but the actual emotions he experienced back then are completely lost to him. 

 

The string of his memories feels like an old and dusty silent movie that holds no meaning for him and that disappears from his mind as fast as it comes, leaving behind a sense of emptiness, the feeling of having lost something fundamental that he will never manage to recover.

 

He realized quickly that it is because it's foolish to try to recreate something so irreplaceable as the warm feeling of innocence, of safety, of having a home and people there to watch over him: no matter how hard he tried to create surrogates of his family, long lost idylls that seemed to appease him for a while, none of them could last. 

 

In the end, Hannibal left it all in the past, and as an adult he saw no reason to start to establish any kind of festive tradition.

 

And once he left Paris and the last link to his family behind for good, he was alone. In a country where he had no roots: it seemed pointless and he simply moved on.

 

But now, with Will and Aleksandra in his life, everything is different.

 

Despite all his walls an defenses, the child infects him too with her festive excitement, her big smiles and her need to see him join her and her father in the preparations for the holiday. It's clear that Tiny loves Christmas, that she probably looks forward to it more than to any other holiday: it's endearing to hear her little simple plans, her wishes and what she's going to ask Santa for this year: it somehow helps him get in the mood as well.

 

It transmits to Hannibal in such a strong way, that it allows him to go along with it a lot more convincingly: he almost doesn't have to pretend to join in on their enthusiasm, despite how little he cares about the whole affair.

 

It is becoming so easy to just lay back in silence and follow their lead, comfortable in his new role of quiet support.

 

He can't help watching them as they discuss how they'll spend he holidays: Will is going to be home from work, Aleksandra will have no school, and Hannibal's mind is already working on getting them to spend as much time with them as possible.

 

And inviting them over to his house feels like the best possible choice to achieve his goal. Aleksandra, of course, is over the moon with happiness, nodding and clapping her hand with a big, bright smile on her face: there is something that always tightens in his chest at seeing her like this, and that usual feeling of not being completely in control of his emotions washes over him once again.

 

“Hannibal, can we decorate your house?”

 

He catches Will's eyes as Aleksandra climbs into his lap and puts her head against his chest, her little ear resting right where his heart is. Hannibal smiles to him, even more when he notice the content look on his face, and wraps his arms around the child.

 

“Of course we can; we can do anything you want. And my house is big enough to ensure that we'll have a lot of fun all together. Your father can join us too, of course.”

 

Will laughs.

 

“Well, thanks for... extending the invitation to me as well, I'm honored. You happy, Sharky? I know how much you love Christmas...”

 

Tiny nods, staring at the two of them with her usual solemn and at the same time playful expression on her face. She's so peaceful and at ease in every situation lately, much more outgoing and friendly than she used to be. Hannibal still remembers the scared and shy child that used to come talk to him in his office at the school, sometimes just needing a familiar and kind voice, sometimes hiding. She changed so much, and in part thanks to him too.

 

She probably will never shake off the introverted and melancholic side she shares so much with her father, but Hannibal loves that too about her.

 

“Daddy and I make the house so so pretty when it's Christmas, it's really funny! And the snow is so cute: the doggies play in it all the time even though it gets really, really cold in Wolf Trap and i'm always worried they might catch a could. But later daddy and I and the doggies sit in front of the fire place, where it's warm. Do you like Christmas too Hannibal?”

 

He runs a hand through her soft, curly short hair, bathing in the warmth of her smile.

 

“Well, I cannot say I have much of an opinion about it, since I never really celebrated it. But just seeing how much it means to you, puts me in my best festive mood. I do hope this feeling is appreciated.”

 

Tiny looks at him with a shocked expression on her face, her little mouth hanging open in disbelief. It's like her little mind cannot understand how such a thing could ever be possible.

 

“Why not, Hannibal?”

 

Hannibal stops to imagine what her little world has been made of so far: just of her, her father a few selected friends who probably try to shield her as much as they can from the dark sides of life. So different from his own: Tiny was loved immensely from the moment she was born, and no one ever made her feel lonely or took away that innocent beauty that colors her world.

 

On the other hand, he knows how cruel life can be. Hannibal himself has contributed to create more chaos and mayhem in it, and always with a satisfied grin on his face. He sailed through rivers of blood and death, coming out of them renewed every single time, never looking back to stop considering what he was destroying in the process or leaving behind.

 

Maybe that is why she cannot quite understand his isolation and that pain that still pulses inside his chest: all Tiny knows, is that she has to fix it no matter what. Even though she is only a little girl and all that weight should not be on her shoulders.

 

She is just too sensitive to ignore it: just like her father.

 

Will sighs, looking at him as his face darkens, probably because the same thoughts that are taking roots inside his own mind, are in his as well.

 

“Well, I had no one to celebrate it with before: only my parents cared for it, and after their death, there was nobody left for me to share those moments with. And growing up, I must admit I simply never really thought about establishing any tradition on my own. But now I have you and your father with me. And that changes everything.”

 

The child nods solemnly, taking in his words and holding his hands tight to show she understands them: Hannibal kisses her temple, feeling her relaxing again.

 

Truth be told, that is not the complete truth: he does have one strong and bright memory of one Christmas. The first one after his parents died and the last with Mischa still alive.

 

He tried to bury it so deeply inside of him, that it only jumped at him when he lowered his guard to get more in tune with the little girl's feelings, and now it's pulsing painfully in his heart, like a wound that just won't heal. Mischa used to love Christmas as well: Hannibal has the memory of her loud excitement seared into his brain, together with her happiness when he gave her the cheap home made gift.

 

But it's a thought he can only stand for so long before it starts burning him, melting his defenses and forces him to make it disappear ones again. Focusing on Aleksandra is a lot easier: Hannibal closes his eyes and listens attentively to her soft breathing, inhales her delicate scent that fills the air around him and slowly puts him back on track.

 

When he opens them again, he can see Will watching him, serious and unreadable.

 

“I'm sorry you were sad when you were little, Hannibal.”

 

Tiny whispers the words, almost afraid of being too loud and disturbing his grief.

 

“Oh, don't be, please; I will not allow it. It is all in the past now, forgotten and left behind.”

 

Hannibal watches Aleksandra go back to her drawing, concentrated and happy once again; Will on the other hand is still looking at him, his gaze unfaltering. They asses each other all the time, they read into all they say and weight every word carefully. Most of the time, he loves it, he sinks his teeth into the challenge and plays along.

 

But right now, he pauses and waits in silence for Will to make the first move. 

 

The man inhales deeply, rubbing his daughter's back gently as a smile peaks through his lips, bringing life and light back to his face: his gaze is elsewhere, almost passing through Aleksandra's body, but despite this he radiates beauty anyway, and Hannibal can't help staring at him, fascinated.

 

“We should only let Hannibal focus on good, happy things. We can pretend this truly is his very first Christmas and teach him everything we love about it. How does that sound?”

 

Tiny smiles happily: every time he gets to see her like this, he cannot help but thinking about how lucky Will has been all his life, able to watch her growing up since her birth, transform into the beautiful and kind child they both hold between themselves. She is precious, her innocence is precious, and for the first time, Hannibal feels the deep need to nurture and protect without wanting to destroy.

 

Does Will feels the same when he visits a new crime scene and confronts its horror? Does he cling to the thought that he's making the world a safer place for his child when he fights against his own demons and immolates his beautiful brain on the altar of the FBI? In every killer, in every murder, maybe he sees what could happen to Aleksandra, and the enemy becomes only more vicious, as his need to defeat it grows inside him.

 

He's a man haunted by both his darkness and by the possibility of losing the only light in his life: Hannibal is starting to understand it more and more, in the most unexpected and sudden way.

 

What did he used to see in his murders? The thought pokes at his brain desperately, yet he knows so well that he might never have any chance to get an answer.

 

“Hannibal?”

 

“Yes, Tiny?”

 

“Can we bring the doggies too here for Christmas? It'd be too sad to leave them at home all alone. Please?”

 

He looks at Will for help, already feeling himself overwhelmed and defeated by the hopeful and endearing expression in Tiny's eyes: the thought opening his doors to a hoard of dogs is far from appealing, but her soft smile makes it impossible for him to say no to her.

 

Will does nothing to help but grinning at him, even laughing softly a little, watching him squirm under the weight of his considerations and of Tiny's expectations. Maybe he's relieved not the be the one, for once, who has to carefully navigate himself around the child. Or maybe he just enjoys watching Hannibal suffer.

 

“Well, I am not sure my house would be very comfortable for them... maybe they would find it new and intimidating and get restless.”

 

Tiny lowers her eyes, looking embarrassed and saddened by that thought, blaming herself for not thinking about that. She's so sensitive, so raw and still completely defenseless in front of the world that surrounds her, and that is already preparing to tear her little heart apart.

 

Which is something that he knows for sure he could never ever do. Not even in a million years. Inside of him, something broke, and it transformed itself: Hannibal committed himself to the happiness of another person, a child that depends on him whatever he wants it or not, and now, even though his footing is still shaky, he is finally fully becoming aware of the consequences of it.

 

It gives him both a feeling of absolute power and of complete helplessness. He sighs in the end.

 

“But we will try to make it work. This is our first Christmas all together after all, and it should be special and exactly as you want it to be:.”

 

Tiny looks up shyly, still holding back, not sure what to make of his words: Hannibal imagines her little heart beating fast inside her chest, as hope and happiness start flooding into her again, draining out the sadness that was on her face a moment ago. He resists the temptation to look at Will, struggles with it because he wants to see what he's thinking, what he's feeling.

 

But focusing on her is far too important right now: keeping her in his complete power and getting back in her graces are his priorities. And if to do that he has to accept their back of strays in his home, so be it.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Of course; I am sure you and your father trained them well enough to make sure they won't cause any problems. And if that makes you happy, then it is all that matters to me.”

 

Aleksandra smiles happily after that, looking at her father for further reassurances, and then jumping in his arms again and hugging him after he nods. Hannibal strokes her back as gently as he can, closing his eyes for a moment to inhale her scent.

 

She does not smell like Mischa at all: sometimes, he tried to fool himself into believing that he could see his sister in Aleksandra, that some of her traits could still live on in this child that has nothing to do with her. Now it's time to erase these thoughts for good.

 

“Thank you, Hannibal. I love you so much!”

 

Will is looking at him with a marbled and perfectly still expression on his face, his whole musculature tense, but not with a sense of danger or of worry. It's like what he's seeing is simply too much for him: too beautiful, too intense. It leaves him paralyzed.

 

Hannibal understands exactly how he feels.

 

“I love you too, Tiny.”

 

\-----

 

Will puts Aleksandra to bed alone that night, while he retires to the kitchen to a peaceful moment alone before he'll have to sustain the inevitable interrogation that he saw forming in Will's eyes during the whole night. 

 

Sometimes, it is so unbelievably tiresome to be always on the fence, always defending his positions and watching out for possible flaws in his complex defense mechanism that protects the tender tissues of his deepest secrets.

 

In part because he knows that it is an useless effort: Will and Tiny pierced through his armor a long time ago, and the wide gash they opened inside of him is only getting bigger and bigger.

 

And it is only a matter of time before it all spills out: it's a truly exhilarating thought for him when he considers that possibility with a clear mind.

 

Hannibal always knew how to make a show of himself, how to be memorable: but he also prided himself with his armor, hi masks and the secrets buried deep inside of him that no one could ever manage to dig up. It was that contrast that made the persona he created carefully over the years that made the whole adventure of going into the world so fascinating.

 

No one could see the beast in him and that was the most alluring side of it: he could kill, torture and serve his victims to his friends without them noticing.

 

But now something in that vision of the world he considered absolute is cracking and slowly starting to fall apart: now what Hannibal wants to be is someone that Will and Aleksandra could know completely and love anyway.

 

It's a feeling that throws him off his balance, and he can't help wonder how the pieces of himself will readjust themselves once the tower falls down.

 

When Will finally joins him, Hannibal can feel his presence right away, like electricity making his skin prickle: he finishes drying the dishes before turning around, and see the other man lying back against the wall, his eyes half closed and a blank expression on his face. It's rare for Will to be so unreadable, holding his emotions close to his chest without letting anything come through.

 

Hannibal sighs, bracing himself.

 

“Is Aleksandra safely asleep?”

 

Will's features relax at the mention, and he smiles.

 

“Yeah, she is. It's weird how much this house relaxes her: she has no troubles falling asleep at all here.”

 

He tries to smile, but suddenly feels nervous, scrambling to find something to do with his hands like they are suddenly a foreign part of his body that he does not know how to us anymore. Will's eyes scan him, so blue and so mercilessly deep, refusing to let him go.

 

“She sleeps peacefully because she is still innocent and therefore has nothing to disturb her rest or tainting it with nightmares. I am glad my house favors her dreams though.”

 

Will nods, a bit awkwardly as he always does when he doesn't know what to say, lowering his eyes and hiding his face away from him. It's something he still cannot get rid of, that shyness and lack of confidence that follows him around.

 

“Shall we go to bed as well?”

 

Will shakes his head, coming finally closer to him now, but not touching him just yet. Hannibal wants to grab him by the hair and kiss him hard, push him back against the wall and fuck him right there, so he'll forget all his doubts again and he won't have to reveal yet another part of himself.

 

“I'm not tired yet. Let's sit down in your study for a while.”

 

Hannibal can feel on his skin and in his bones what's coming, the inevitable confrontation that is preparing itself: there's a defense mechanism still very much active inside of him that whispers to him to run, to push Will away and protect himself. It argues with the voice that tells him to show off, the same one that always motivated him to stage his victims after killing them.

 

He could've disposed of their bodies so easily, making them disappear forever without attracting attention, keeping himself in he safety of the darkness: but he had to be seen, he had to perform and break through the walls of indifference and monotony that surround him.

 

This is what he wants from Will now as well: he wants the other man to be completely captivated by him, to see him hang on every word coming out of his mouth. And it doesn't matter how painful it'll be for him for dig out of himself emotions he might not be ready to face, not even after so many years.

 

Yet it's always so comfortable to sit in silence next to Will, listening to the sound of his breathing, watching the golden light the comes from the fireplace bringing his features alive: Hannibal could do that for hours and never get bored.

 

Every time he looks at Will he notices something different, more complex and unexpected than he previously thought. He can fully immerse himself in his observations and silence the noises in his head

 

“I am glad we will get to spend Christmas all together.”

 

This inevitably brings a smile to Will's face, just as Hannibal had anticipated: he enjoys the thought of the three of them becoming a real family possibly even more than he does. Perhaps because while he has carefully planned this exact outcome from the very start, for Will this is an unexpected gift that he still cannot believe to be true.

 

“So am I. And thank you for allowing Aleksandra to take the dogs with us: I know it must not be a thrilling prospective for you.”

 

Hannibal laughs, sipping some of the cognac in his glass, eyes half closed as he takes in the familiar presence of Will next to him and basks into the feeling of closeness they're sharing. For a moment, he allows himself to let his guard down and indulge himself.

 

“I do love animals, do not get me wrong; I am just not fond of them in my own house. But I am willing to set this aside for the holidays. Tiny's happiness means way more to me than my own personal comfort.”

 

Will smiles, hesitating only for a moment before gently touching his hand: Hannibal leans into that contact, reverting in the subtle warmth of Will's fingers against his skin, grabbing him firmly and brushing his lips against the back of his hand. There's a gratitude in his eyes that Hannibal wants to keep fueling until it'll drown everything else.

 

“I think this'll be good for Tiny, us being all together at Christmas: getting even more used to the fact that we're a family now. These last few months have been crazy for all of us: we all need to relax and have time to process all of it...”

 

“You more than your child, I believe: Aleksandra was very quick to adapt to my presence in your lives and in your family. As you have said many times, she formed a bond with me with ease: for her, this is all perfectly clear. But you are still trying to comprehend the proportions of this change; and somehow it is holding you back.”

 

Hannibal watches Will's face abandon his smile and go back to a mask of uncertainty and doubt: he's so extremely expressive, so exposed to his own feelings and completely dominated by them that he just can't look away, has to take in every nuance, every shadow that passes on his face before it disappears.

 

“It's not easy for me, you know that: sometimes I feel like things are moving too fast and all I want to do is pull me and Aleksandra back from the imaginary edge I'm afraid we're about to fall over. It's hard to convince myself that there's no edge and to keep moving forward. But I know for sure that this is completely new and frightening for you as well, and that's comforting somehow.”

 

Hannibal inhales deeply, basking into the feeling of having Will's body so close to his own. Every day he sees the residual diffidence between them evaporate, leaving behind a new sense of trust that he can't help to find beautiful and almost intoxicating.

 

“I understand how you feel: welcoming someone new into your life can have devastating effects if it goes wrong. You are afraid, you want things to go back to that comfortable and safe way they used to be. But deep down you know you cannot achieve that. You have only one way to go, and you are aware of that, as scary as it can be. I think in this case, we should allow Tiny to teach us a very important lesson: when change happens, welcome it with a smile.”

 

Will snorts, and his whole face comes alive in that gesture. He's still young, Hannibal thinks, despite the lines of worry and horror that carve out his face: life battered him, took away years and youth from him, yet in times like these, that hint of peace and happiness they are sharing is able to smooth everything out.

 

“My daughter is five: everything is an adventure for her, even the scariest things.”

 

“Maybe we all need to become five years old again sometimes: have a little bit of complete faith and foolishness in us to help us see the world in a different, more childish way.”

 

Hannibal closes his eyes when Will sighs and gently caresses his face, running his fingers through his hair and then kissing him softly, almost pushing his whole weight on him in an attempt to get even closer to him. 

 

Will is not a very physical man: except with his child, Hannibal always saw him keep a firm distance between himself and the world, trying to protect himself, to keep the danger away as much as possible, to shield at least his body even when he has to bare his soul. And yet here he is now: in his arms, demanding from him a lifetime of touches and pleasures that he denied himself for so long.

 

Hannibal basks in the feeling of his warmth under his fingers, in the trust they are sharing.

 

“I've made a lot of really stupid decisions since I met you: I think I've been foolish way more than it would've been wise to be. Will I regret it?”

 

They look at each other for the longest time: Will's blue eyes are like glass, so shiny they almost appear wet. Hannibal reads suffering in them, a desperate desire to be loved and to forget his past. He wonders what the man can read in his own: he tries to relax his muscles, to put his whole body in a state of complete ease before he smiles.

 

“You will not, Will.”

 

“That is a huge statement. Are you sure you can live up to it?”

 

In his eyes, Will is like a wounded animal, desperate for human contact, for the freedom that comes with falling in love without being afraid of what could happen if he gave too much trust. Hannibal wants to sink his teeth in that vulnerability. There is something maddening sensual in his eyes, in his expression of silent begging: and he doesn't even realize it.

 

Will is so used to being alone that he almost cannot phantom sharing his life with anyone other than his daughter: Hannibal knows that no matter how much progress he makes, he still has a lot to prove, and his efforts and struggles are not over yet.

 

He pulls Will closer, slipping a hand under his shirt, caressing his lower back with the tip of his fingers. He feels the man next to him shiver into his embrace, and raises his hand to put his other hand against his cheek, cupping his face and feeling his coarse beard under his palm.

 

They look at each other for a long moment, and Hannibal has to resist the need to lick his lips to savor the air around them. He takes a deep breath without looking away from him.

 

“I know trust is not easy for you, and I am aware of being only human and that I might end up disappointing you. But no matter what, I still intend to try.”

 

Will smiles, pressing his forehead against his, letting out a long exhale of relief that fills Hannibal with a sudden boost of confidence: he wonders if anyone ever made him feel like this before and a fit of jealousy insinuates itself inside of him. He's determined to erase all the traces of others that might be still left of him; he needs to be the only one for Will.

 

His need to possess him grows and grows everyday, almost frightening him with that intensity.

 

“That's a good start, I think.”

 

Will kisses him, and Hannibal allows the feelings of that kiss to obliterate everything else, including his own plans and thoughts, already frantically in motion in the depths of his mind: there will be time for that, plenty of moments of preparations and strategy.

 

But now he enjoys Will's warm body, the thought of Tiny asleep in her room, of the family he has been shaping a building in his own head finally taking form.

 

“Shall we go to bed now?”

 

This is all he says to Will, watching his eyes come even more alive as he takes his hands and guide him upstairs.

 

Once they're safely locked away in his bedroom, Will undresses him slowly, running his hands on his body as if this were the first time he's allowed to see the him naked. Hannibal basks in the look in his eyes, in the way the other man savors every inch of skin he reveals.

 

He enjoys keeping himself in perfect shape, and being admired and devoured like that by the subject of his obsession is more gratifying than any murder could ever be. When he reaches his hand to touch him, Hannibal secretly wishes he could take a hold of his soul and squeeze it out of him, see Will with his wide blue eyes contracted in a mix of pleasure and pain.

 

Hannibal kisses his hard, fucks him face down on the bed, watching him desperately trying to keep as quiet as possible even while losing himself in the madness of their bodies rutting against each other. Will's pale skin looks like bloodied gold in this light, and Hannibal licks it up to keep that taste in his mouth.

 

He memorizes the shape of him, the sounds that come out of his mouth, the smell of sweat and passion that permeates the room. There is a raw, hidden beauty in him, and Will has no idea it's there, under the thin layers of his skin.

 

Will spent so many years of his life believing he would never be loved, that no one ever could break through his defenses to see what is really hiding behind them. In the past, nobody bothered; Hannibal can read it in the way he fucks and clings to him afterward, his cheek pressed hard against his chest, damp forehead resting against the crook of his neck, begging to be allowed to just stay there forever.

 

But Hannibal wants more, he wants all of him: to eat away his insecurities, his nightmares and the wounds he collected over the years, until all that remains is the most honest core of him.

 

Will falls asleep in his arms, apparently in the safest place he could ever find: right in the mouth of the predator that has been stalking him and worm his way inside of him. For now he doesn't know, and that allows him the peaceful sleep of the righteous.

 

Hannibal stays awake a while more, just looking at him, as his brain works at a slow and relaxed pace to come up with his future moves. There is a smile on his face when his eyes finally close and he falls into the arms of oblivion. 

 

\-----

 

For the next few weeks, Hannibal's life is taken over by Aleksandra, Will and their overwhelming Christmas spirit in the most intense and sudden way, leaving him at the same time stunned, satisfied, confused and intrigued at the same time.

 

The two of them have their rituals, their inside jokes that are lost to him, and at first he struggles to find a footing that will allow him to keep up: but even just watching them as they walk down the streets holding his hands, cheeks red because of the cold, bright smiles on their faces and a sense of complete happiness radiating from them, it's enough to take him over completely.

 

He follows them quietly for the first few days, gathering information, observing and learning from all their gestures. Every time Will notices how his gaze lingers on them, he smiles at him and holds his hand, as if he wanted Hannibal to feel part of their family unit completely, despite being only a recent addiction.

 

It is an odd and interesting feeling to be so welcomed, so wanted by two people that on paper are still near complete strangers, but that in the span of only a few months have managed to revolution his world without him even noticing. 

 

Aleksandra talks incessantly about decorations, presents and wishes, and not once he finds himself bored or annoyed: the little girl overwhelms him with her genuine kindness, with her optimism and happiness, and he can do nothing but be infected by those emotions. 

 

There is still a side of him that looks at Aleksandra and Will like a captivating science project, an experiment that strokes his curiosity, his need to manipulate and control the people he moves around with his masks perfectly in place. They are the flies he slowly traps in his web, bringing them closer and closer to himself every day.

 

And yet, at the same time, that part of him is getting smaller and smaller: he's getting lost in his own game, and the Grahams are becoming more than just an oddity on his path. They are starting to feel like family, and that is a feeling he thought he could never experience again in his life.

 

When at night Tiny crawls on his lap, and they spend the rest of the evening reading or talking under Will's watchful gaze, Hannibal has the distinct feeling that the pieces of a part of himself that was in shambles for so long are at last starting to come together.

 

The child trusts him, loves him in that innocent and complete way that only belongs to children: it is something that takes time getting used.

 

“Hannibal, do children believe in Santa where you come from?”

 

He smiles at the question, and watches her running her fingers on the illustration of a fat old man in a red dress with a sparkle of excitement and expectations in her eyes.

 

“I am sure they do; because they know no matter how far they are, he's always be able to find the good children across the world. And who know, this year Santa might not be the only one bringing very special gifts to the two of you.”

 

The child looks up to him, suddenly interested in whatever he has to say, even forgetting the book in her lap, which usually grabs all her attention. Will too turns his head towards them, curious to see what he will reveal. Their eyes meet for a second: Hannibal smiles at him, softening his features, and he's rewarded by a soft laugh that shakes Will's body and gives him a strange sense of pride.

 

Hannibal adjusts Aleksandra in his lap, so they're looking at each other, with the little girl's hands on his shoulders.

 

“Will there be a surprise, Hannibal? What is it!”

 

“Yes, of course. There'll be a very special surprise: but you have to be patient. We don't want to spoil it, now, do we?”

 

Aleksandra hugs him, giggling.

 

“But I want to know! Please, Hannibal!”

 

“Well what would you like it to be? New toys or books? Another puppy perhaps?”

 

From his corner, where he was watching the scene unfold in silence, Will snorts.

 

“Please, don't encourage her. She already begs me to stop at the shelter every other day. I don't think there's much room in the house for another dog. We might as well go sleep in the car. ”

 

Hannibal smiles innocently, while Tiny ponders on his question very seriously.

 

“I just want something nice for me and daddy and you. So we can all have fun together! Christmas should be fun for all of us, right Hannibal?”

 

He gently kisses her forehead, making her giggle, and holds her close to his heart.

 

“You are right as always, Tiny. That is exactly what we should do. You and your father have become my family, and you have given me so much new and unexpected happiness. It is only fitting for me to give of that back to you.”

 

Aleksandra always fills him with a desperate desire to be more, better, to be at his best and shiniest self. She has no idea of how powerful her innocence, her kindness are, but Hannibal feels the pressure of them on his shoulders every day. The child transforms him, one brick at a time, and soon enough he will not be able to recognize himself anymore.

 

Later that night, with Tiny safely asleep in her bedroom, buried under the warm covers, Will finds him in the kitchen as he's finishing washing the dishes. He says nothing at first, but Hannibal can feel his eyes piercing through his back and even without turning around he can sense the soft smile on his lips.

 

He inhales deeply as Will comes closer, putting his arms around his waist and resting his cheek against his back. Hannibal hesitates for a moment, something that used to be unknown to him and that lately has been happening more and more frequently, unsure if he should touch him or not.

 

It occurs to him that their most meaningful conversations always seem to happen right there in his kitchen, like that room has an immense influence on both of them.

 

Will's soft breath warms his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, and when he finally places a hand on his arms, the man behind him laughs softly.

 

“What do you have in mind for Christmas?”

 

“It would not be a surprise if I told you now, would it? You will have to trust me and give me complete carte blanche to do as I please. I am sure you will not be disappointed in the end.”

 

Hannibal turns around, and before Will has the chance of saying anything, he kisses him, long and hard, running his fingers through his hair and holding him close. The man lets him, sinking into the kiss and smiling after it ends.

 

Will keeps eye contact with him for a long time after it, and Hannibal feels like the other man is trying to build up the courage to say something he knows he will not like. He sighs, as he runs his hands on the front of Hannibal's shirt.

 

“Please, just... don't go too crazy and spend too much money, okay? There's no need to do that: you don't need to impress us any further.”

 

That phrase generates a turmoil of conflicting feelings inside of him: he's at the same time embarrassed, annoyed and interested about dissecting Will's world, while handling the impact they're having on him. 

 

They touched this theme before, and Hannibal could smell Will's difficulty with accepting kindness and gifts from miles away from the very beginning of their relationship. It puts him in the difficult position of being torn between pursuing his plan while still allowing the other man to believe he's in control of what happens around him, and that his comfort zone has not being breached.

 

It's precarious and dangerous, and Hannibal has to carefully watch every step he makes. So he just smiles innocently, without letting anything show on his face.

 

“Am I not allowed to spend my money the way I like?”

 

Will rolls his eyes, looking at him like he doesn't understand why Hannibal is being so intentionally dense about this situation.

 

“You know that that's not what I mean...”

 

“Yes, I know. What you mean is that you don't want me to spend too much money on a present for you and your daughter because you hate the idea of owing something to anyone. It makes you uncomfortable to be the recipient of any kind of kindness, especially when it concerns money. I find that very interesting I must say.”

 

They look at each other for a very long moment: Will's face lights up with embarrassment mixed with curiosity, while Hannibal tries to keep his expression as blank as possible. He can feel the current running between them, if he closes his eyes and focuses he can hear the beating of Will's heart.

 

Will takes a deep breath and looks away, pretending to be rolling his eyes at him.

 

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me again?”

 

“I don't know, Will. Am I psychoanalyzing you or just stating the obvious?”

 

Hannibal senses a bolt of annoyance coming from him, can almost see his defenses quickly rebuilding around him to try to shut him out of his heart. He wonders if he went too far, if he poked Will in a place he wasn't ready to be hit just yet, and his mind starts scrambling to find a way out of this situation.

 

But when Will seems to relax and inhales deeply, his face assuming a resigned and almost helpless expression, Hannibal knows he found a way into an even deeper level if him.

 

“Yeah, I grew up poor, and despite this I never asked for help, I never begged nor fell on my knees to obtain anything. I worked hard for it, for what I have today, and for the life me and Aleksandra are able to live together. Charity makes me uncomfortable, pity disgusts me. And it's hard for me to look at gifts and not see the emotional baggage that might come from them. That sense of being deeply indebted that I could never live with. It's just the way I am. Is this what you wanted to hear me say?”

 

There is a long pause between them, in which all Hannibal can do is once again being surprised by Will's unpredictability, and at the same time trying to come up with something to say.

 

Will is pouring out his heart to him, showing far more trust than he thought. And Hannibal knows that he cannot let this chance pass him by, that he has to impress him so deeply and completely that he'll not be able to extricate himself from him anymore. 

 

Hannibal closes his eyes, allowing the sudden sense of surprise to leave his body: he was not expecting this, but when his mind catches up, he knows he's ready.

 

“What I want is for you to trust me enough to tell me all this and more. And in return, I don't offer you pity or charity, Will. I offer you complete understanding and trust. All I want is to make you and Aleksandra happy, I want you two to believe and confide in me. I would never humiliate you, or consider you beneath me.”

 

Will cracks a nervous smile.

 

“You deal in something very fragile and brittle. I hope you know that. In a second our opinion of you could completely change, aren't you afraid of that?”

 

He debates for a very long moment if in this situation he can afford to take a risk, and what making the wrong move could cause. Hannibal moves slowly, placing his hands on Will's shoulders at first, then slowly moving onto his neck, his thumbs applying the lightest pressure possible.

 

There is a sudden light of recognition in Will's eyes, a realization that freezes him there where he stands: maybe a part of his brain is trying to warn him about the possible danger he might represent. He's too smart not to have sensed something, not to perceive the dark aura that surrounds him.

 

Yet he doesn't move at all, his heartbeat remains calm and stable. In his eyes there is nothing, he completely abandons himself in his hands, as if whatever might happen to him is nothing he intends to worry about. Instead of being galvanized by that display of trust, Hannibal suddenly feels cornered, crushed under the weight of the situation.

 

He wanted Will's trust, complete and utter, yet he wasn't prepared for this, for the emotions this moment is evoking in him. He hesitates, his hands feeling more and more unsure against Will's skin.

 

Will catches his doubts immediately and smiles.

 

“Are you going to kiss me or kill me? Have you decided yet?”

 

At the sensual and yet amused note in his voice, Hannibal can't help a smile: he knew Will was unpredictable, he just never realized how far he could push himself and how deeply that fire burned inside him.

 

Yet he's still aware of the tension that fills him, the subtle fear of what could happen if they both slipped completely outside of their masks and revealed themselves without any affected layer to protect them. 

 

Hannibal decides that they both deserve to live out this fantasy a little longer, and kisses him, gently, his hands moving away from his neck to cup his face and pull him closer. Will relaxes in his arms, kissing him back.

 

He's not sure if this is a further proof of how much Will trusts him or of the fact that he's slowly and steadily giving up more and more to adjust to them. He found himself making choices and taking decisions about his own life that would have been unthinkable only a few months ago. Hannibal feels this changes that seem to slip away from his control with both dread and curiosity.

 

Yet for now he basks in Will's soft eyes, in the warmth of his body and in the knowledge that the trust and dependence between them is growing. 

 

That night in bed, his body refuses to allow him to rest, and instead he keeps staring at Will, as he rests on his chest. Hannibal runs his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as he lets his thoughts run wild.

 

One day, and judging from Will's reaction at tonight's events it might be sooner than later, he'll have to deal with the lies and secrets that poison their relationship. He'll have to look him in the eyes and tell him that the monster he spent so long chasing was right under his nose the whole time.

 

His mind registers this knowledge as a challenge: making Will fall in love with him so completely that even the fact that he's the Ripper won't matter. It will be hard, he'll have to be on his best possible behavior for a very long time and play all his cards in the best way he can.

 

Changes will be inevitable, even more radical and complete than those he made so far. Yet, he is ready: what awaits him with the Grahams is a one in a lifetime opportunity to experience something that eluded him for years. A sense of belonging. And that is something he craves now, for better or worst.

 

Hannibal smiles to himself as he closes his eyes and opens a brand new door inside his memory palace, and dedicates it to Aleksandra and Will

 

\-----

 

Christmas Eve arrives in the form of seven dogs cramped in his garage, of a very busy day spent in the kitchen and of Aleksandra and Will forcing him to wear a very ugly sweater. Hannibal accepts this new turmoil in his life, this incredible violation of his spaces and his routines with a grace that surprises himself as well.

 

Aleksandra's positivity takes him over somehow, infects him like a virus, to the point where even the pack of mutts does not bother him as much as he thought it would. It's Christmas, he tells himself, and the goal he has been running after during the last few months grows closer and closer.

 

“You look good like that, you know?”

 

Will smiles at him as he sips on his eggnog, his cheeks slightly flushed and an amused light shining in his eyes. He looks tempting, and Hannibal would give into that temptation if it weren't for Aleksandra sitting on the kitchen floor and drawing, as her favorite dog, Winston, watches over her.

 

He returns the smile, but pretends to be too busy with the food cooking in front of him to spare him more attentions than necessary.

 

“If you say so, it must be true.”

 

Will rolls his eyes, trying to look bothered and disappointed, but failing miserably, and puts his arms around his neck, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, after making sure Aleksandra is distracted by the dog.

 

Despite the openness of their relationship and the fact that Tiny seems to be aware of the changes happening around her little family, Will remains shy and secretive about any kind of display of affections. He wants to ease his daughter into this slowly, and this is at the same time frustrating and endearing.

 

Hannibal of course goes along with the chaste kiss without pushing further, but keeps him close.

 

“Come on! It's Christmas! Loosen up a little bit.”

 

He laughs quietly.

 

“I have six dogs in my garage, one in my kitchen, I'm wearing a horrible sweater that itches and I have a five year old girl playing on the floor. Believe me, Will, I have loosened up significantly since I met you.”

 

The looks at each other for a moment, and Will's eyes assume that softness that usually is devoted only to Aleksandra. The conflicting emotions of feeling at the same time honored by it and aware of not deserving it hit him again in the strangest way, making him lose some of his resolve. 

 

Will is capable of twisting whatever he's feeling and turning it against him without even doing it on purpose.

 

The man inhales deeply.

 

“And do you regret any of it?”

 

“Not one single thing, Will.”

 

The man smiles, satisfied by his answer, happy with the sincerity he senses in it. Will manages to give him another quick kiss on the cheek, before their attention is reclaimed by Aleksandra.

 

The child signals to him that she wants to be picked up, and Hannibal happily obliges, placing her safely in his arms. She's younger than Mischa was when she died, and yet for him his sister seems to be frozen in time at about Tiny's age, which floods him mind with memories that hurt more deeply than he expected it to.

 

But he keeps those emotions locked up inside to focus on the Grahams, and especially on Tiny.

 

“Hannibal, I'm hungry! Is dinner ready yet?”

 

“Not yet, I'm afraid. Just a little bit longer and we'll eat. Can you be patient until then?”

 

Tiny nods, rubbing his eyes and yawing: it's a little later than her usual bed time, but Will and her have their tradition to go to Christmas Mass at midnight, so Hannibal accommodated them by having dinner postponed so that Aleksandra would still be awake.

 

And, most importantly, Will asked him to join them to the service: it is a test he cannot fail and everything must be perfect. He has never been on good terms with God since he allowed Mischa to die, but for Aleksandra and Will is willing to make any compromise necessary to get to them.

 

“Winston is hungry too! Will there be food for him as well? Can he eat in the room with us?”

 

Hannibal sighs and looks at Will for help, but the man offers none, waiting to hear his response before he jumps in.

 

“There will be, of course. But in the garage, where all his other friends are. I am sure Winston would feel lonely without the other dogs, don't you think? And the dining room is such a boring place for a dog. He will have more fun there.”

 

Aleksandra thinks on it for a moment, before shrugging, clearly disappointed, but still willing to accept Hannibal's word as undeniable truth.

 

“Look, we made a drawing for you! You can keep it.”

 

Hannibal holds that thin and fragile piece of paper in his hand, looks at Tiny's rendition of their possible family and has the terrible feeling that all he has been building might go up in flames as easily as the paper he's holding.

 

Even one single step in the wrong direction could lead to destruction.

 

It's Aleksandra's weight in his arms that reassures him, Will's hand on his back that chases away the dark thoughts flooding his mind: there is something in them capable of generating the deepest sense of peace he ever experienced in this life after Mischa's death, and at the same time precipitate him in a state of complete confusion.

 

Hannibal pushes through those thoughts and smiles to both of them, kissing Aleksandra's cheek and ruffling her hair just slightly.

 

“It is the most beautiful gift I could ever hope for. Thank you.”

 

Her smile in that moment is worth more than all his efforts.

 

\-----

 

The church around them is filled with the eerie atmosphere of Christmas: there is an unreal peace that only seems to happen on this night, a gift from the divinity that was born on this day and that the people gathered there are celebrating.

 

Hannibal inhales the lingering scent of incense, listens to the choir and the organ intoning a new hymn, and observes Aleksandra and Will as they follow the service and pray. The child, wearing her new coat, shoes, hat, gloves and sweater, looks like she's about to fall asleep, but tries bravely to resist.

 

Will reciprocates his gazes from time to time, smiling: he looks heavenly beautiful in this light, in this atmosphere that softens the curves of his face.

 

And it is while he looks at him that Hannibal's mind finally catches up with his emotions, finally opening up a clear path around him.

 

This could be his life forever if he played his cards correctly: decades of Christmas mass, the opportunity to watch Aleksandra grow up, to give Will the love he so desperately craves, but that was always denied to him or that he denied himself on purpose, in an attempt to atone for God only knows what sin.

 

Hannibal could pull down the last remains of Will's fortifications and gift himself a new life that he never new he even wanted in the first place. And yet here he is.

 

He wonders if he would be able to live without the thrill of the Circus that surrounded the Ripper and his exploits. He has been hungry for it for so long, dependent on that absolute power he could wield over his victims: letting it all go is going to be the final test and proof of his commitment, and if he'll be able to hold on to this decision, only time will tell.

 

For now, he allows his mind to play in front of his half closed eyes what will happen tonight once the service will be over.

 

They will take a walk through the frozen fields until Aleksandra will fall asleep, forcing them to go back to the car. Hannibal will kiss him despite the cold, and as they drive home, he will keep thinking about that kiss.

 

And so will Will.

 

They'll put Tiny to bed, kissing her forehead, looking at her for a while envying how peaceful her nights are, her dreams free of worry and pain. He'll hold Will's hand, place his lip on the nape of his neck, licking the skin until the man will finally follow him to their bedroom.

 

Maybe they'll fuck, maybe they won't. It doesn't matter to him. What matters id the warm heat of Will's body next to his, the soft words that will pass between them.

 

Then Will slowly will fall asleep first. And holding him close, Hannibal will allow himself to follow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, I know, and comes as always after far too much wait for you all.  
> But I was running out of idea for it and it would just not happen the way I wanted it to, so i cut some portions of it and I'm publishing it, hoping it'll make it up for the long wait at least a little.

On Christmas day, Will wakes up slowly, difficultly, and surrounded by the nearly suffocating weight of Hannibal's body pressed against his side and of Aleksandra hugging him. It takes him a very long moment to come back to himself and put the world around him into its proper order once again. The fog of sleep doesn't seem to want to let him go.

 

But when he does, at last, come back to himself, a sudden and beautiful feeling of peace and happiness fills him.

 

Will looks at both of them, at his little family buried together under the heavy covers of Hannibal's bed, safely tucked away and protected from the world outside. He usually does not allow himself to dream or hope, to see the good in what happens around him: but it's nearly impossible not to indulge in optimism now.

 

He runs a hand through Tiny's hair, adjusting her weight against his body, and then turns around slightly to look at Hannibal. Will tries to go back in time to his first impression of him, to compare it with what he sees now: and he's surprised to realize that not only how he feels about Hannibal has changed, but the man in front of him as well.

 

Something about him is different, softer maybe, like layers and layers of old and stubborn dirt and grime have finally been stripped off of him, leaving Hannibal able to breathe more easily. He looks less otherworldly, less threatening and menacing.

 

The hidden fear that Will used to feel looking at him has faded, leaving a new sense of trust in its place. And it's hard for him to trust people, to accept them in his life, to give them enough room to win him and Aleksandra over.

 

And yet here they are: all wrapped up in their bed like a true family would.

 

Will kisses him on the cheek, and smiles when Hannibal groans softly, not waking up right away, but indulging himself in that feeling. Will runs a hand on his chest, places his face against his neck and inhales his scent, staying still until Hannibal finally opens his eyes.

 

“Did you just smell me?”

 

He laughs softly, low enough not to disturb Tiny.

 

“It's hard to avoid honestly, you take up a lot of space. And you smell so good.”

 

Hannibal reaches out to touch his face gently, skin scratching against his beard, then caressing his hair, pulling him closer to kiss him chastely on the lips, always mindful of Aleksandra still sleeping next to them.

 

“Merry Christmas, Will.”

 

Will inhales deeply, smiling and snuggling closer to him, allowing his nostrils to be filled with his scent again: Hannibal appreciates it clearly, judging by the soft laugh that escapes his lips.

 

“Merry Christmas, Hannibal.”

 

They could stay like this forever, buried in each other arms and with Tiny with them, warm and satisfied. And the temptation of doing just that is strong: of closing his eyes again and going back to sleep. But the dogs need to be fed and taken out, and after all it's Christmas, Tiny's favorite day: and there are still many gifts to open under the tree downstairs.

 

Will sighs.

 

“We should wake her up, probably.”

 

Hannibal makes a face as he stares at Aleksandra's sleeping form, and reaches out to gently caress her arm.

 

“Do we really have to? She looks so incredibly peaceful right now: safe and sound in our arms. It feels almost wrong to disturb her.”

 

“Christmas is her favorite holiday: usually, she'd awake by now, jumping around as she's opening up her presents, the dogs all around her and me in the kitchen, making her some hot chocolate. We don't want her to miss all that, do we?”

 

Hannibal smiles to him and closes his eyes for a moment, like he's picturing the scene inside his mind, taking it all in. Will stares at him in return, trying to catch all the new glimpses he sees reflected on his face.

 

Even now, after all this time and after deciding to trust him, to Will Hannibal still looks like a dormant beast, quiet and peaceful for now, but dangerous and ready to strike as soon as he awakes. 

 

That unsettling feeling he felt that first time in his office might've been dulled, but it's still there. Yet now instead of scaring Will, of making him wonder what he's hiding under his masks, he asks himself what changed in him and how deep that transformation goes.

 

When Hannibal opens his eyes again, he sighs before nodding; then he kisses Will one last time, observing in silence as he gently rouses Aleksandra from her slumber.

 

Watching them like this, as Hannibal rubs her back and gently whispers to her to wake up so she can go open her presents, it's the most precious of sights, one he never experienced before: his exclusive relationship with Aleksandra filled his life completely, and he never thought he could ever share those moments with anyone.

 

He had to protect her, to keep her safe: but having Hannibal there seems to make everything much more important and precious. He's the unexpected, what he never knew he needed in his life and that now he can't live without.

 

The little girl wakes up slowly, clinging to her shark and rubbing her eyes as she smiles at Hannibal and him; the man caresses her hair, tickles her a little until she's completely awake, ready to jump off the bed and run downstairs to check on the dogs and to open her remaining presents.

 

Will knows the drill, and laughs to himself imagining the scene: but for the meantime, they're all still buried under the covers, and he savors this moment.

 

“Hannibal, Daddy! It's Christmas, it's Christmas!”

 

They both laugh at her enthusiasm, at the light that shines in her eyes every time she's excited about something.

 

“Indeed it is. Merry Christmas to both of you. How did you sleep, Aleksandra?”

 

But her attention is already elsewhere, and the little girl barely registers his words. Aleksandra sits up on the bed, yawing again and stretching her little arms towards the sky, and then looks at him, crawling in his lap.

 

“Daddy, daddy! Can we go downstairs to see the dogs?”

 

Will sighs, but his smile doesn't falter and he keeps looking at her with gentle indulgence.

 

“Are you not even going to give me and Hannibal a merry Christmas kiss? Don't we deserve one?”

 

Tiny blushes, clearly embarrassed, but recovers quickly, and Will can't stop himself from laughing. Aleksandra kisses both of them, burying her little head against Hannibal's wide chest and giggling when he tickles her. Her delicate scent lingers in the air around them, and her soft hands reach out to grab both him and Hannibal, like she wants to hold them together and never let them go.

 

Will feels a warmth in his chest, a peace so complete and absolute that it scares him, because it feels unreal, too fragile to last. All that happened to him over the years, the pain he had to endure scarred him so deeply that hope feels unfamiliar.

 

Yet when he sees Aleksandra in Hannibal's arms as the man takes her downstairs in a vortex of laughter and happiness, that sense of uncertainty is slowly drained out of him, leaving behind a new and more positive outlook on life.

 

Will stays in bed a moment more: he inhales Hannibal and Aleksandra's scents, holding on to the warmth he still feels on the sheets: this time it'll be different, he tells himself in a subtle whisper only he can hear.

 

This time we will be happy.

 

\-----

 

Hannibal welcomes him into the kitchen with a smiles meant to hide the panicked look in his eyes as he watches over Aleksandra, who's currently busy rolling on the thick carpet that the man must've put there with the dogs. 

 

The child is giggling and the animals around her wiggle their tails in excitement and bark from time to time to show their appreciation of all the cuddles they are receiving. Will can't help but laughing at Hannibal's expression as he attempts to start on their breakfast, even though he is constantly distracted by the chaos in front of him. 

 

He's not used to this full life, so filled with noise.

 

Will gets closer to him and kisses him on the mouth, pressing their lips together for long moment before letting him go. There's that usual flash of possessiveness in Hannibal's eyes, the one that instead of scaring him, strangely turns him on even more.

 

“Is she making your life miserable?”

 

“Not at, Will. Not at all; she is a lovely and good girl.”

 

Will nods.

 

“And what about the rest of the pack?”

 

At that Hannibal takes a very deep breath and looks away.

 

“They have been more tollerable than I was expecting, I have to be honest. But I do think they need to be fed and taken out...”

 

He laughs again, clinging to him and kissing the side of his neck. Aleksandra is distracted, and doesn't seem to notice it.

 

“Don't worry, they won't pee in your kitchen. But you're right, of course. Just... let's enjoy this moment a little bit more, ok?”

 

Hannibal looks at him for a few small seconds, pondering in perfect silence about this sudden bout of confidence, not sure where to put his footing in this situation. Will realizes how much he enjoy seeing him this way, not so sure of himself, conflicted and prudent like never before.

 

He recovers quickly enough, kissing him quickly on the mouth and then allowing him to wrap his arms around his waist for a few minutes while he resumes cooking.

 

Will inhales his scent, and listens to the regular beating of his heart, realizing that it has been so long since he fell so deeply and completely in love with someone. He almost forgot what it felt like.

 

If Hannibal can get a sense of his thoughts, he doesn't allow it to show on his face, but still the man holds his hand close to his heart, kisses it gently and releases it reluctantly when Will moves away.

 

“I'll go walk the dogs.”

 

The man stares at him for a long time before nodding and going back to their breakfast, and in his eyes Will read an intensity that felt different from anything they exchanged before: he wonders what passed through his mind during those seconds, but forces himself to leave those thoughts behind for now, to move away from that magnetic pull.

 

Will notices Aleksandra exiting the room with a couple of dogs following her, and suddenly, as soon as she's gone, a deep silence surrounds them. Hannibal is still staring at him, his eyes piercing through him.

 

“You look different, Will.”

 

“How so?”

 

Hannibal inhales deeply, and his eyes assume that fixated intensity that makes Will's skin prickle and long shivers run through his spine. He doesn't look away, but can feel his cheeks becoming slightly warm under that pressure. The silence around them is so absolute, that when Hannibal finally exhales the sound seems to propagate at an incredibly loud volume.

 

Will stays very still, like he's trying to make himself invisible from a dangerous predator, who caught his scent and is now pursuing him. The association should worry him, a distant part of his mind says, but instead of listening to it, he just waits.

 

“I am not quite sure yet. There is a new levity about you, something I think you never quite expected to ever experience in your life, that is catching you off guard and making the feeling incredibly amplified for you. You look beautiful and, I dare to say, almost perfectly happy.”

 

“And all this because of you? You sure think highly of yourself...”

 

Will attempts to laugh it off, but Hannibal expression doesn't change.

 

“I don't want to assume too much, of course, nor sound too pretentious. But I do hope that my presence in your life is making a difference, in positive.”

 

He adds the last words in a whisper: Will can tell he's not used to this, to having to confront his feelings more than necessary, and that image generates in him a sudden wave of tenderness and love that makes him smile. He runs a hand on his cheek, pulling him a little closer.

 

They look at each other, trying to understand what the other might be thinking.

 

“It is.”

 

They kiss one more time, and Will is pleasantly lighthearted when he starts to gather his dogs, putting leashes and collars on all of them as Hannibal goes back to their breakfast. 

 

It is in that moment that his eyes focus unexpectedly on his hands: Hannibal is holding a knife, slicing bacon in thin, perfect stripes before placing them on another plate. The movement is repetitive, mechanical and mundane: something the man probably does everyday without even thin king about it. And yet there is something about it that he can't look away from.

 

It feels like the distant memory of something that he knows he should remember right now, something fundamentally crucial.

 

Hannibal is good with his hands, he's good with knifes: every gesture is perfectly calculated, sure and methodical.

 

“You were a surgeon.”

 

The man stops abruptly, spurring into attention like he has been whipped: his eyes are focused on him and unreadable. Will has no idea where that thought came from and why he had to express it all of a sudden: but it seems to have struck a nerve inside the man in front of him, who a moment ago was calm and relaxed and that now looks so on edge.

 

Hannibal collects himself at a slower pace than usually, but a few moments later he's able to attempt a smile: it doesn't come out very well. There is something there to see, something important, but no matter how much he tries to grasp that thought, how far he chases it, he can't sink his teeth into it.

 

“Yes, I was, Will. Why did it occur to you just now?”

 

Now Will is the one at loss, feeling embarrassed by the weird associations of his mind, by the confused images that flash before his eyes. He looks away, shrugging.

 

“I'm not sure; it just did.”

 

Aleksandra's returns arrives just in time to save them from the tense and awkward moment that brief exchange left between them. Hannibal smiles at her and offers her a bite of a soft pancake, before taking her into his arms so she can help him with breakfast. Whatever his mind was trying to tell Will, it dissipates into that image of tenderness, and he tells himself that he's just tired, that seeing horrors and death every day of his life made him suspicious of everyone and everything.

 

“Daddy, are you ok? Do you want some pancake too?”

 

He smiles at his daughter, and approaches the two of them with a new smile on his face.

 

“Later, sharky. I need to go walk the dogs now, or they'll pee on every carpet in the house and God knows what else! Would you mind going to get me all their leashes so we can go?”

 

Aleksandra nods like the good little girl she is.

 

“OK! I'll be back soon, Hannibal. Daddy, can we open the other presents once you get home, please?”

 

“Of course, babe. Go now.”

 

A moment later, they are alone.

 

Will inhales deeply, before facing the man: Hannibal has returned to his placid and comfortable self that knows everything is back to normal. He admires the man's ability to readjust himself to his surrounding so much: he feels always so out of place, and he wouldn't mind some of that effortless confidence.

 

“Sorry about that, I have no idea why that thought came to me like that...”

 

“There is nothing to apologize for, Will. Your mind is constantly vigilant, it is accustomed to notice every little detail, to see threats and mysteries in every gesture; it is a sad baggage of your work for the FBI I fear. I suspect it'll take some time for you to truly believe that you and Aleksandra are safe with me, that there are no monsters here. But I am a patient man. I can wait.”

 

Will kisses him, to fully convince himself that nothing happened and of the truth in his words.

 

Hannibal is a good man, he repeats to himself like a mantra as he allows him to take him into his arms and hold him for a very long moment: there is nothing to worry about.


End file.
